The Hetalia Dating Game
by AnnaEtPhantom
Summary: Romano and Spain have broken up for over a century now. Surprisingly, both countries have completely different point of views. So, what happens when Hungary invites all the countries to an "emergency world meeting" only to trap them in her own dating game? Hungary being the matchmaker, of course. The only thing Romano's worried about is being set up with someone other than Spain...
1. Chapter I

**Chapter I~ Checking our Mailbox of Doom**

_**Disclaimer~ I do not own Hetalia.**_

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This morning was probably the worst morning of my immortal life. Although I'm probably just being overly dramatic about it, it wasn't the best morning of my life. Why, you might ask? Because it was the morning when Veneziano and I actually checked our fucking mailbox _of doom._ That mailbox was just waiting to explode on the next person to touch it. And guess who that turned out to be? Yeah, that's right, _me! _There must've been more letters in that stupid thing than I can count. There's no doubt half of them were probably and most-likely bills and paychecks or anything relating to money and the economy and other things I didn't give a damn about.

We didn't even have the time to sort the letters out anyway! Veneziano and I have become far too busy lately to check our mail daily. So, we usually just check once every few months just so the mailman doesn't get a heart attack when he tries to plant another letter in that thing. The mailbox looked like it ate a person... Why are you looking at me like that? Yes, we're busy! And not in the way you think we are because that's fucking disgusting! You fangirls of mine need to lay off reading this shit like it's your job. Last week, when I wasn't busy as hell, I checked this lovely website of yours and _accidentally_ read one of the most horrifying fan fictions I have ever read. Now, I can't even look at most of the other countries the same way at the World Conferences! However, I must say you captured most personalities perfectly. I'll applaud you for that.

As I was saying... Lately, our economy hasn't been all that great which is a shocker to me since we're _Italy_, you bastards. And last time I checked the whole world loved to go to Italy. I don't see why not? Beautiful skies and lands, art worth more than your life savings, and hell, we make the best cuisine in the world. Ignore what that fuckface says, mind you... But like the rest of the world, were broke. Miracle, isn't it? Not broke, but damn the unemployment rate is high and all the complaining is annoying. All the young people who are supposedly our future are hella nervous about it too. _Damn it..._

So, now my boss has been on our asses lately making us work politics and business all year. Excuse my French. Wait... Hell no! I would rather die than learn French because that would mean I actually know that fuckface's language! Hell, even Feliciano agrees with me on that! And as you know our opinions differ greatly. Me actually agreeing with him... just the thought of it makes me queasy.

Back to my story, so usually when we're checking the mail I check it first. Being the elder sibling, I should do everything first. I check for spam mail and German sissy letters. God, let me tell you they even _smell_ like sausages. And I throw that worthless shit out in the trash and carry on with anything that has to do with me while Veneziano gets all emotional and starts crying about how the potato bastard never sends any letters... I swear I'm surrounded by idiots. Then, there are those threat letters from anonymous claiming he will invade my vital regions if I didn't visit Spain._ I swear I'll get you someday, you motherfucking bastard._ I highly doubt it was Spain anyway since he isn't that egotistical. The threat letters kept claiming to be awesome and cursing and Spain, being the wuss he is, doesn't curse. I should know, I've lived more than half my life with the guy. And then there's more bills...

Now I have the beginnings of a major migraine. I've been contemplating on whether or not I should visit Spain nowadays. You know, on those days, when I'm actually not busy and go on a vacation in Spain. N-not saying I would! If I did visit that tomato bastard, I know I'd probably wouldn't come back and then that wouldn't be a vacation, would it? Besides I don't think I'd be able to leave anyway, not with Spain pleading for me to stay and giving me that watery puppy face. How could you say no?! Then, I'd leave all the hard work on my brother and my boss. My boss would probably be pissed off and come to Spain himself just to spat in rapid Italian how I'm a lazy ass. And then, Veneziano would cry and whine and hell, I don't wanna deal with that dammit! So, as you can see it would be a stupid decision to visit the tomato bastard, therefore**_ I sure as hell won't. _**

Now, I know what all of you are thinking..._ Don't you live with Spain? _Yeah, now give me a minute to explain that. **_NO. _**Not since I became independent from him._ Visit him once in awhile?_ Yes, until he invites France the Fuckface and Potato Bastard Number 2 over and get so drunk that I sneaked out, into my Ferrari, and back to Italy without dealing with Spain's constant whining. Try avoiding that! I think I've forgotten how he looks already. All I know is he's not as strong as he used to be. I-I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'll answer more questions later but for now I need to finish reading the mail, dammit! I'm not as lazy as you like fucks to think I am! I can pull my weight around when I want to!

So, let me lay out the scene for you. Veneziano and I are in the living room and we have a shitload of mail stacked on the coffee table and basically everywhere. I'm sitting in my comfy leather couch, legs crossed, arms crossed and pouting since our mail doubled in size since our last clean up. Veneziano is sitting down on the floor; eager, happy, giggling as usual, reading a letter I forgot to throw out from that potato bastard. The sight was horrifying, in fact, if I read that letter I might barf... all over Veneziano. Heh... that'll teach him to read those letters in front of him. Whatever he does, he better not...

"Ve~ Lovi~ Look at what Germany sent me!" He chimed as he turned to me as if expected me to actually _read_ what the potato bastard sent him. He waved the letter in front of me. Damn... now I wish I was illiterate. Since, when did that macho potato learn Italian!? What the fuck!?

"Hell no! Feli, get that thing away from me!" I swatted at the paper and stood, marching over to the kitchen. There was no way I was going back in there without a drink. Hm... so I poured a glass of red wine for me and orange juice for Feli. Idiot better be grateful and not speak a word about it or else I might regret it in the first place. I returned and gave him the drink, only this time was different. He didn't thank yours truly or giggle and smile. How odd... instead he was deeply entranced by the laced letter before him.

In all honesty, I've never seen Feliciano this intensely focused unless he was teaching someone who has no taste in food; oh say... eyebrows or the potato bastard how to make pasta. Last time, he was kind enough to grade it a D- when I would gave them a big fat F. Their cooking probably destroys taste buds anyway.

Can I be brutally honest here? Yeah, okay Feli was scaring to the point where I might piss my pants. You try watching him concentrate once in awhile. He's not even this focused when it comes to his own damn economy! Which in retrospect is also our health. Thank god, only a few moments later did his stiff hard expression relax into a calm, eccentric, and his normal happy-go-lucky one. Incidentally, because I was slightly worried that the potato bastard did something to upset Feli from one of his letters, I knocked over another stack of mail that was piled up neatly. It's not my fault, damn it! Who put the freakin' mail there in the first place? Its in my way! Oh wait... wasn't that me? Ugh... whatever I don't have time to deal with crap like this!

"Lovi~! Look! We have an invite! I think it's from Hungary~!" Feliciano giggled. _Fucking __**giggled. **_Only three things pop into my mind, when I hear the name: "Hungary".

_Run. _

**_Run_**,

**And NEVER look back! **

That she-demon is always trying to push countries together and... do I really have to explain all this?! She and Japan probably teamed up to try and make the entire world a R-18 rated yaoi manga. Yes, I know what manga is, Japan sent me one for my birthday last year! Oh the horror. So, an invite from Hungary, eh? There's no doubt, this will end badly... for me. All you fangirls will probably drool over this.

"Invite for what?" I asked, even though I knew perfectly well that I wasn't going and that there is no force on this earth that was going to make me go to whatever this is! I bit my lip in anticipation.

"An Emergency World Conference~! Ooh... sounds serious. This time we're going to Hungary's house!" Emergency World Conference, my ass. Probably a setup for something I really wouldn't want to take part in. Then again... everything isn't all about someone taking vengeance on me. I've got to stop with all the narcissistic things I'm saying before I turn out like that douche, Prussia. "It says she invited everyone and..."

"Feli, shut up for a fucking minute! We're not going! Hell, this letter doesn't even look legit. I say we ask our Boss the next time we see him next week..."

"But fratello, the World Conference is tomorrow!" Feliciano cried. Damn it, now I can see how this would be just perfect. If we don't attend then the next time I see my Boss hell murder my ass for ignoring this if it DOES turn out to be real. If we do attend and it turns out to be a trap, were screwed.

"Dammit Feli! Last time, we went to an "Emergency" World Conference, everyone ended up dancing and so wasted I forgot how I ended up in Prussia's bed! And I'm not risking that again!" Thank god, I woke up fully clothed. But I had a killer hangover that day.

"But fratello..." He whined.

"Feli, there is nothing you can say that will make me go to that she-demon's house!" I screeched for emphasis. If there was one thing I was absolutely certain of, it was that bad feeling in my gut that I should avoid this meeting at all costs.

"Big Brother Spain will be there! Ve~" _Oh for fuck's sake._

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_**((A/N~ Thank you for reading~! Oh and I apologize for the overuse of cursing, I hate cursing. I almost never curse and I just feel guilty now. Hope ya liked it~!))**_


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II ~ Why did it have to be you?**

_**Disclaimer~ I don't own Hetalia.**_

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_Previously on The Hetalia Dating Game~ _

_"But Fratello..." He whined._

_"Feli, there is nothing you can say that will make me go to that she-demon's house!" I screeched for emphasis. If there was one thing I was absolutely certain of, it was the bad feeling in my gut that I should avoid this meeting at all costs._

_"Big Brother Spain will be there! Ve~" Oh for fuck's sake. _

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Now I know what you all are thinking at the moment. _Aw, Lovi wants to be with Spain._ First of all, _**HELL NO.**_ I-I'm just going to make sure he's safe from the claws of Hungary. I mean... just think of what would happen if I left him alone. Imagine all the worst-case scenarios and times that by three. All hell would break loose! All the countries were going too, and that included France _(who would do the unspeakable to Spain if Hungary just asked)_ and Prussia _(who isn't even a country anymore so why is he going?!)._ Spain doesn't know it yet, but I'm his guardian angel whether he likes it or not. And, of course, the fact that my boss would kick my ass if I were to stay home, be lazy, and do absolutely nothing all day instead of trying to fix all the world's problems. Let's face it, that's so not happening anytime soon.

So, if you were able to see me now, you'd see a _very_ hot yet grouchy Italian man in his hot car with his wuss of a brother. Grouchy because we only had 24 hours to drive to Hungary's place and that clearly wasn't enough time. Feliciano and I knew we were going to arrive late since we included stops for food, bathrooms, and resting. The entire ride was fucking annoying as well. When Feliciano drove and I rested, he would sing his German songs. Naturally, I'd yell at him and curse out loud, which made him weep the entire time. So, no sleep for me. It's like the universe hates me.

And when I was driving, Feli decided it was more than a perfect time to call his potato bastard and talk nonsense. So, it wasn't a peaceful ride. As of right now, I was driving and our navigator claimed we were less than an hour away from our destination. It wasn't long before Feliciano decided to give me "the talk". Yes, you know the one. **NO, NOT THAT ONE!** "Ve~ uh...Lovi could I ask you a question?"

"What is it?" I growled. He better make it quick, I'm fucking driving here.

"Well...um... do you love Spain?" _What? Why, do my ears deceive me?_ In reality, I didn't keep my cool at all. My eyes widened and soon enough you could hear tires screeching and the sound of horns being beeped loud. I _cannot_ believe that distracted me. That one simple question made my mind go blank for a minute. Once I regained my sense of direction and saw what was close to a car crash, I swore loudly and slammed on brakes. As I quickly swerved off to an intersection and off the path, driving soundly back onto a highway. _Focus Lovino!_ I had almost crashed into a motherfucking car. And didn't even have the time to give the other innocent driver the finger! Why? Because Feli decided to ask the stupid fucking question. Dammit, now my hands are frozen. I can't concentrate. Why is this so overwhelming to answer?

I intensely glared onto the road and we stayed silent till we were off the highway. I was going over 70 mph, which wasn't a good sign. My tongue dried up almost instantaneously as I continued to drive with a steel grip on the wheel till we neared the closest gas station. That's it, we're stopping the car! As you can probably guess Feliciano freaked out and honestly believed we were going to die. Heck, I couldn't even focus on the crap he was spatting out. Even if he was screaming in my ear, wouldn't be surprised if I couldn't hear very well the next day. I need to calm down, where the hell is all this unnecessary anxiety coming from? "Lovi~! I thought you said you had your license! How could you lie to your fratello?!" Something snapped. Probably because both He and I were used to getting speeding tickets, that I found what he said offensive. I parked in front of a gas station and turned to face who I was_ this_ close to murdering.

"Fuck you! My driving is no better than yours!" I growled, drawing unwanted attention from a few bystanders. Meanwhile, Feliciano cried like a wimp asking why we _"weren't as close as we used to be."_ What the fuck did that even mean?! I responded with more swears, not noticing the beauty behind me. I blame Feli.

"Um.._.haa._..excuse me?" She stuttered out, nervous head-to-toe quietly. She shuddered when I gave her a accidental glare. I gave myself a mental slap to the face. She was a pretty one too. She knocked on the glass windshield, worried for a moment. Dammit, like I don't have enough to deal with already. I rolled down the windshield with a click of a button. "S-sorry to bother you sir, but would you like me to fill up the tank?" Oh...right. We're at a gas station. Remind me to murder Feliciano, or better yet, hide all the pasta once we get home.

_"My apologies, bella. Yes, please fill it up."_ I tried smiling as softly as I could while thinking of ways I could punish my idiot brother. That seemed to do the trick as I handed my credit card to her blushing face. Accents did wonders to foreigners, it was a fact of life. She contently left to finish the job, as I decided to stay silent. It was torturing not to tell Feliciano off at that moment. If you observed my face closely, you could make out the occasional twitching I had not fixed. I was also pondering on what I would tell Feliciano. He was that persistent. No doubt he would get an answer out of me as soon as we hit the road again.

"Lovi~ You didn't answer my question..." Or maybe sooner. I am not ready for this conversation. As calmly as I could, I replied, "That's because you're not getting a fucking answer..." I didn't dare look over to feel so guilt-ridden by those pleading eyes. They were probably more sickening than Spain's!

"But Lovi~ he asked me to ask you!" Feliciano whined. I don't care what excuse he had, there was no way I'm answering an answer as embarrassing as it could be. And if he thinks that he can..._wait._.. wait just one _fucking_ moment...

_**WHAT THE HELL?!**_

**_He asked you?!_**

Feliciano flinched a bit, when I turned to him with an expression filled with horror and awe and well, you don't want to imagine it. I bet I looked creepy myself. What was spiraling through my thoughts at the moment was exactly _when_ did Feliciano _have the time_ to talk to Spain when I couldn't?! We were both equally as busy! Plus there's no more room for him, since that macho potato took too much space! Not to mention that Spain's too busy with those dicks he calls _"friends"_. Even Feliciano avoided the Bad Touch Trio at all times. That and how did he even _know_? I pretty sure I made my point quite vividly when it came to my feelings, _with a series of vibrant, colorful swears._

I don't know why but whenever Spain is mentioned. I feel a bit nostalgic and queasy. My legs turn into jelly and there's an anxious feel of fluttering deep within me. God, I must be getting sick or something. I need a doctor. But that did _not_ excuse Feli for associating with that damn tomato bastard!

"Feli... before I go all mafia on your ass, tell me. When the fuck did Spain...No, even better, _why_ the fuck did he ask a question like that?" Feliciano gave me that annoying coy smirk. You know the one where your friends knows something secret, you don't. So, I was half-expecting the answer he gave me.

"Fratello, that's a secret! For me to know and for you to find out~!" _What?_ Since when did he share secrets with Spain and not me! I spent my entire childhood, not to mention teenage years with him. Wasn't I closer to him than Feli? Hypocritical bastard, I fucking hate him. If he dares speak to me at t-this meeting, then I hope he likes being ignored and glared at. I-Its not like I c-care or anything... but I'll be damned if Feliciano didn't expect what was coming if he gave a half-assed answer like that!

Next thing I knew, my hands intertwined at his neck and I repeatedly choked and head-butted his sorry face as violent as I could. I should tie the mafia on _**both**_ Spain and Veneziano's asses. Just to show them who's boss. Feliciano cried and whined out so damn loudly, he was making ten different suggestive noises of pain all at once. _The fuck?_ Now, I was pretty damn sure everyone at the gas station maneuvered their way to check on us like the pervs they are. That must be Feliciano's way of getting his undivided attention here. Eventually, no one dared challenge me and my superiority. As in everyone was too fucking scared of my frightening manliness to do something about it. _Hah!_ That'll show you yaoi fangirls who the real seme is here!

...

What the hell is wrong with me today? Ugh...you know what, I know too much! I've been infected now. And I'd better edit that out later. Meh... Feli can do it for me later. Anyway, in the end, the one who saved my idiot brother from my wrath was the gas station pretty who's been filling up my car tank the entire time. I don't she was even phased this time either since she came up to me and chimed a happy tune while singing, _goodbye_ flirtatiously.

_"Grazie, bella."_ I even made sure to add a wink there before moving back onto the road ahead._ What?_ What kind of Italian man would I be if I didn't flirt with pretty girls? You know what, you guys confuse me. Oh and that rule doesn't apply to fratello at all. Why? Well because that potato bastard told him not to flirt with anyone other than him. I cannot tell you how much this enraged me. I went so far as to try and convince Feli that its a sin not to flirt with woman on the spot. He almost believed it too, if it weren't for him running it by his boyfriend first._** NO.** _I didn't fucking say that either! Please mentally replace the word, _"boyfriend_" with _"slave-driver"._ Way more accurate, that word also applies to Hungary, Austria, Spain, and England by the way.

As expected, I spent the entire ride avoiding the rest of Feliciano's questions and let me tell you, he better stop if he knows what's good for him! At one point I lost my temper though... "_For the love of..._**_ NO._** That's my answer Feli. _Happy?_ I don't love Spain and I never did. I don't know what the devil gave you the notion that I did!" I also bet that devil was named Hungary. _"No."_ I huffed out for emphasis. I gritted my teeth at the obvious lie. If he wanted an answer so damn badly, well there it is! There's no way, no humanely possible way I was going to admit anything to Feli who would tell just about the rest of the world later.

"Really Lovi~? Are you sure? I could've sworn..." I hate it when he made me question myself._** " YES, I'm fucking sure! Leave me alone, dammit! I don't love Spain! If anything, I hate him!"**_ That silenced him quickly enough which both startled and made me over think the whole idea of it.

...

I gulped, feeling a sinking sensation in my heart. Like the whole realization rushed up to my brain in powerful waves. Why did I always chose the stupid path of false denial? Even if I knew perfectly well that I was going to regret this later. It's almost inevitable that Feli would tell Spain _this_. But... what wavered me from correcting myself was the fact that we haven't seen each other in a while...not since _that day. Oh god, oh mio dio..._ I can't go to Hungary's! Not now, I'm not mentally prepared! Fuck it, why did I have to realize the error of my ways now!?

I've... sorta been avoiding him since the last time I saw him. So, maybe my feelings for him lessened. And maybe the feeling is mutual. I doubt he has any feelings for me anymore. How long has it been since I last saw him? In reality, its been half a year since I've seen him at the last World Conference which we have yearly. And even then, I refuse to sit near him so, therefore no contact and Id like to keep it that way for now. I usually sit as far away as possible, even if it means sitting next to that macho potato or *shudders* Russia, which is not pleasant.

Let me tell you, because the potato bastard literally screams in your ear half the time. Its a miracle I don't have to go to an ear doctor. While Russia is being creepy and frightening as usual. But it wouldn't even matter because were all assigned in our **ALPHABETICALLY-ORDERED** seats and I'm categorized with Italy. So, Spain and I sit far apart anyway. Both in actuality and geographically speaking. Then, at the end of the meeting, I'd dash out with my Italian speed all the way back to the heart of Italy. All before someone annoying like America can stop me.

Other than World Conferences... I haven't seen him, no. I've kinda blocked all means of contacting the tomato bastard. Moving my house, changing my phone number, deleting my facebook, putting his useless emails to be considered trash or spam. I know I'm being childish, dammit! But I did it in the hopes of getting over him. I haven't seen him in over a century now. I wonder how's he been. Its too agonizing to be near him. Not after what happened. Oh yeah, you're probably wondering what I mean by that. I-I'll explain that later, prying cagna.

Perhaps once, did the sight of him overwhelmed me to the point of giving me a heart attack. Like I said, I now, barely remember what he looks like, what he sounds like, what he smells like and what attracted me to him. I've been avoiding all means of eye-contact with him at World Conferences if that isn't enough. I think they were green... Memories fade fast for half- countries such as myself. I felt relieved for for a moment. Maybe he still didn't have that effect on me. T-that's a good sign...,right? I'm glad what I once felt for him was nothing more than puppy love, just infatuation, nothing else. Its a relief like a huge weight off my back.

"Lovi~? Are you crying?" Feliciano shamelessly asked. I hurriedly wiped my eyes with the back of my wrist. They were watery. Not crying, but enough to drop a single tear. Those tears were just threatening to spill over the edge. Fuck... How the hell...?! Damn it... "Hell no! Shut up! I have dust in my eye. Close the fucking window Feli!" But then...why do I feel like i'm falling deep?

I hate Spain. I hate him for making me feel this way. I hate the effect he has on me. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it! Why can't he just go away and leave me alone? My eyes widened at what I just said. My mind blanked out as if that thought alone burned and scorched the rest of my thoughts soundlessly. _Go away?_ Am I fucking stupid? During the Exploration, I was basically tortured by the fact that Spain had to _"go away"_ to the New World. Those are the days that I remembered, burned in the back of my mind. I had thought he had died and disappeared at that time. I blinked back the tears and clutched onto my heart.

_Calm down Romano... calm down._ _The year is 2013, not 1492._ I need a distraction, anything to suppress these fucking emotions. I'm not a girl, dammit. And to top it all off... I have a new problem is emerging. The fact that Hungary probably and most-likely force us to sit next to whom she pleases be since we are going to her house. And she's going to force us to stay whether we like it or not. Who knows what that _cagna_ is up to?! That means I'll have to encounter Spain at one point. I could feel the anxiety rising to it climax. A-And I've been avoiding him since that day when he...

" Lovi~ are you alright? You look a bit pale..."

"Were here." I dreaded to say those words and threw every ounce of willpower I had to not turn around and drive back. I had to face the consequences one day anyway. Running away won't last forever. Hopefully, life won't be a butt and stubborn as hell. I'll just treat this situation like how I treat all situations. Ignore it and it'll go away. Even if I did know that this _-undoubtedly-_ is most certainly not one of those situations.

_I fucking hate my life._

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_**(( A/N~ Oh mio dio~! This is one hella long chapter! Hope you like it~! I can't believe Spain is not introduced yet. Worry not, he will be in the next chapter. Also I realized that reviews help me update faster and write more. It's like inspiration. So, thank you~! So much angst at the end...uh sowwy? ^.^' Constructional Criticism is always encouraged. And you'll -maybe- find you what Spain did to Lovi on "that day". I wonder if you guys can guess... Ciao~! ))**_


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III~ You can say Arrivederci to Normal**

_**Disclaimer~ I do not own Hetalia.**_

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There was three things I was positive of when I walked through Hungary's door. One, as soon as Feliciano and I walked through the door, I immediately noticed that all the doors are locked shut and that there were no windows... at all. Should I be worried? Hell yes. Now what was I supposed to do for the means of any escape!? I should've known better than to walk mindlessly into a mansion haunted by Hungary. Damn it, this is worse that Hetaoni! Okay, maybe not as bad but close enough!

Two, it was abnormally quiet. More than usual. How was that even possible?! First of all, were at least an hour late or so, maybe two. And the fighting usually lasts more than three hours. The potato bastard should have been blasting out orders. France the Fuckface should've been screaming and making unnecessary struggling sounds as he choked Eyebrows to death. And America should have been claiming to be the hero. Needless to say, there were over 200 countries/micro nations in this mansion and right now, there should've been a pandemonium of fucking idiocy that I can't deal with.

Feliciano chimed an unfamiliar happy tune that was driving me absolutely fucking mad. Oh and lastly, the one thing I was definitely aware of and had not expected was awaited further ahead. There should have been someone escorting us. Doesn't she have any butlers and maids? But _nooooooo,_ she had to keep the door unlocked. What was she up to? And we knew all the other countries had already arrived. It's was more than fucking hard to find space in that parking lot. Id be shocked if I actually found my Ferrari by the time I'm done with this meeting. Let's get this over with.

…

Okay, so it's been at least ten minutes since Feliciano and I started walking down an endless hallway that seems utterly empty. I don't remember Hungary's mansion being like this before. She's must've done some renovations. At least we knew where we were going. I mean she hung up some signs that clearly point this way to the Conference room.

"Fratello, I think something's wrong..." Vene turned to say. Well duh, there's something definitely wrong. The deafening silence for one.

"That's fucking obvious, Feli-" And before I knew it, the lights dimmed tortuously slow. "The fuck...!?" Couldn't Hungary have the decency to at least shut it off immediately. Now I knew we were in for it. "Run!" I yelled, even if knew deep down it was pointless. Vene and I started running dangerously fast, remember we are Italian. At one point, my idiot of a brother couldn't run as fast and fell behind. "The British are coming!" I screamed, sounding a lot like an American historical figure, Paul Revere. Damn, how do I even know that?! The result, yeah now I was falling behind. I snarled at him from behind. Feli was a fucking Hermes when it came to running. Hermes also being the god of speed in those Greek myths. Unfortunately, that Feli is also the Feli who trained with that potato bastard. So, now it wasn't much of surprise when I couldn't see where he ran off. I need to sign that kid up for the Olympics track or something.

I slowed down when the lights completely dimmed into black darkness. Now, it was ironic. When I was young, I used to be afraid of the dark. Not so much now, but considering we're at Hungary's... I pissed my pants a little. Ew... don't tell anyone or else I'll have to fucking kill you. Replacing my fear of the dark was the eerie sense that someone was creeping up on me. Which was confirmed in less than three seconds when the motherfucker behind me cupped a hand over my mouth and threw a strong arm around my torso, both my arms stuck to my sides. Too fast for me to process what was going on. Subtle clues led me to vague conclusions. It was definitely a man's doing though as far as I can tell. My eyes widened sharply at the harsh familiar whisper in my ear, that sent my stomach churning and my heart racing rapidly. As soon as I heard that voice , I began hyperventilating and not in a pleasant way.

"Don't speak." The voice was definitely familiar, though I couldn't make out the accent I had expected. Those words came out so raspy and quick, I couldn't identify the speaker. Then, he did the regrettable, the fatal mistake of removing his hand from my mouth to cup my ass and squeeze. I gasped in shock. "Ah, much better, mon ami." French. Any idiot could realize that was a french accent, and that he just spoke french. I stood still,frozen in thee dark. Being in the dark with that fucking frenchman molesting me is my worst nightmare. I started hyperventilating uncontrollably, shaking and trembling, and... "You like it, non?" I screamed as loud as I could, not like girl.

…

And I didn't faint like a girl either afterwards.

Fuck.

**~.Oo0oO.~**

The first time I woke up, I was unaware of my surroundings and subsided to my more childish instincts. I felt the warmth of the cradling body, and I curled up at the source of this undying heat, falling back to sleep unknowingly. I was pretty damn comfortable. Don't expect me, not to take advantage of that, I'll deal with this shit when I wake up dammit! The second time I woke up, I was hit with a fucking sun ray that wouldn't sway from my eyes. It was so damn persistent and stubborn, I moved around a little to find another comfortable spot. It took awhile before I realize there was a protective arm around me, caressing me. Instantaneously thinking back to that Frenchman. My eyes shot out and I awoke to glare at the sight before me.

I wasn't expecting what I saw before me. What I had expected a blonde _naked_ frenchman, and I had readied my fists for contact. Instead of that disgusting sight, I was blessed, wait no, _cursed_ upon seeing a soundlessly sleeping Spaniard. Close enough to count his dark eyelashes. I bit my lip ferociously. _This can't be happening. This can't..._ The steady rise and fall of his chest, his slow breathing indicated he was alive; so very alive and indeed too close to me. _You and I..._ Reverse time back to my younger years when this was normal. When being this close was no accident. Regardless of the warnings screaming in my mind, I felt once again frozen in time. This time was different. I was positive. _...You..._ After so long, he didn't change, not one bit. I couldn't contain my anguish and tensed up, my chest tightened mercilessly. I don't know how he noticed, but he did. And opened his eyes tortuously slow. My anxiety heightened to the point of recklessness. Once, I'd seen those, those eyes that resembled the ones as an angel, I-I lost my mind. Though I knew he was no angel, not even close._ ...used me..._

Rashful, I staggered away, pushing him away soundly and fell off the mattress, caught a glimpse of his sleepy, content, dream-like state drastically change into an expression of a distressed, worried, and dark demeanor. _Was it even possible for him to look that way?_ God, could I look more idiotic? I let out a fucking shriek, not even a manly one at that. Even after I fell out, you'd think I'd be a tad more proper and fix myself up immediately and attempt to look more reserved and formal and _decent._ If the Universe could speak, I'm sure it would say,_ 'Hell nah! It's time to ruin Lovino's day!'_ And for some reason, the Universe had America's voice.

"Lovi~!" I heard that same, consistent voice shot out. Fuck... he really didn't change at all. I didn't want to admit it, but this is far worse than I ever fucking imagined! If it was possible, he affected me more than he did in the past. I reacted to every single gesture he gave. He scurried out of bed, fully clothed. _**THANK GOD.**_ And reached out for me. In response, I kicked my heels back and ran back till my back encountered the wall. I stared at those bright emerald eyes in an alarming apprehension. This agitated me too much. And those words triggered back. _I hate him. I-I have to._ Why?

"Lovi, Are you alright?" I heard Spain proclaim in the thick spanish accent I missed. But... didn't I tell him not to call me that!? He paused and hesitated to move forward. The way he looked at me, was the look of a broken man. I should know, its how Grandpa looked before he left. Why did he look at me like that?! I felt a tinge of guilt and the need to help c-comfort that lonely idiot. Fuck. He easily returned to his calm, carefree, blissful self and smiled gently not a moment later.

Surprisingly, I was the first to break the silence. It was just so awkward and building up so much anxiety. "W-why the fuck was I in your bed!?" I screeched, as I hurried to take my cellphone out. What time was it? I stood up, and looked at the time. It was around 5:32 p.m. I remembered I arrived at 2 p.m. The conference should have started at 1 p.m. And that alone still doesn't explain where I am, or what happened! Spain seemed almost as confused and nervous as I was. He scratched his head, ruffling his hair.

"I-I don't know. Uh...Lovi, wow you look so..." I swore loudly. If he said anything or finished that fucking sentence with an endearing adjective. It'll just make it harder for me to be mad at him later.

"DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING FINISH THAT SENTENCE, YOU-!" I growled as loud as I could. I was shocked that after all these years, he still acted the same and wasn't fazed at all. Alas it could not cease the ending he was about to say.

"...real." _What?_ Spain's face beamed sickeningly cheerful light. A.K.A He smiled. And oh, he didn't even stop there at being an idiot. Doesn't he remember what happened last time?! He shouldn't been avoiding me! I told him not to talk to me ever again. "Ah Roma, why are you acting so defensive? You're aren't usually like this in my dreams. Come back into bed." _Dreams?_ That tomato bastard is dreaming!? Of me!? No wait, that's not even the problem here, _HE INVITED ME TO BED._ Due my own stupidity and my deep concentration lost in my own thoughts, I hadn't noticed he had reached to hold my hand. I backed away, my hands out of reach, trying to set things straight and head-butted his face hard.

"No! I'm not going back to sleep! Fuck it, now that I'm awake, you should wake up too Spain!" I yelled. He whined and blinked a little, as an answer he shrugged it off and returned his dreamlike state back to me as his nose bled a river. His hand covered his nose.

"Ow...Lovi~ call me my human name like you always do~! You know it! Uh... wake up?" Yes, I indeed fucking know it. That doesn't mean I'll say it! I'm here for a conference, dammit! Wait... did he say_ 'always'_? I wonder what kind of fucked up dream he was having! I wouldn't dare call him, A-Anto-his human name in public! Not even now since your here stalking me! God, why is it when he said _'wake up'_ it sounded so foreign coming from his mouth. When that man slept, he _**slept.**_ Was he even fazed by my headbutt of doom?

"Spain! You're not dreaming! See!" I pinched his arm. "Wake up, dammit!"

He whined again, rubbing his arm. "Ow Lovi~ if I'm not dreaming, then why were you in my bed?" That... is a good question. How did I end up there?

"How should I know?! The last thing I remember is that it was dark and France-" I paled as that Fuckface returned to my mind. Oh no. _No, no, no, no, no._ What did he do after I fainted. I don't remember what went on for the next few hours. A shiver went up my spine at the thought of it and all the worst-case scenarios flooded my mind. Remind me to do a full-body inspection later. A few seconds later did I realize I wasn't the only one concerned.

"France?" Spain blinked twice, finally snapping out of his delusional fantasy. He seemed to return to reality and frowned. I must be hallucinating now, I fell into a horrified trance. "What did France do, Romano?" I twitched at the use of my name, not that it was unusual for someone to say. But it was unusual to hear him say it. Now, I knew he was awake. I didn't want to answer, or look at him now that he regained consciousness. The genius _-ignore it and it will go away-_ plan was looking really attractive now. I mean seriously hot. _**NOT SPAIN**_. My genius plan. Because even now Spain was scaring the crap out of me. I swiftly moved aside, avoiding eye contact, and jumped in the bed curling up all the bed sheet until I turned into a huge caterpillar. Maybe listening to Spain would do me more good, than bad. I wish he were back to his dream and stop bothering the real me.

"Romano..." Spain started solemnly. Dammit, I'm in the bed already, why isn't he back to his vague creepy dream!?

"He did nothing!" I growled. I don't remember what happened, but I sure as hell not admitting any doubt that something did happen! Next time, I see that fuckface I'll murder him and break his face with that axe Spain keeps in his dungeon... if he has one. I'm not sure, I'll have to check. I _**know**_ Hungary has a dungeon here for "unknown purposes". Spain sighed, and I freaked out when I felt a sudden dip in the bed. _Don't touch me. Don't touch me. Please anything except that!_ I felt his shadow hover over me. "Don't." I croaked out, could I sound any more pathetic than I already did?

"Roma... I- uh... haven't seen you in a while..." Spain was at a loss of words as I was.

"Where am I? Where is everyone? Why are you here taking a siesta when were supposed to have a conference!?" I asked. Might as well start questioning him to avoid the real conversation he was instigating. Delaying it as much as possible.

"Hm...oh we're at Hungary's, she rescheduled the conference till 6 pm at dinner. Most of the countries already arrived so we decided to stay in our rooms till then and Roma what I was trying to say was..."

"Why am I here?" Spain sighed in slight annoyance and formally answered.

"Romano, I honestly have no idea how you got here. When I woke up you were there. Shouldn't I be asking you that? Now what was it, you said about France earlier?" I collected myself and stood up, tearing myself away from the sheets and further the space between me and Spain.

"Nothing." I answered, refusing to look up. I looked at my phone. "Well it's ten minutes to six. If you need me, I'll be at the conference." _Do me a favor and don't._ I wanted to imply. Spain's figure seemed to droop down in melancholy.

Walking out the door was probably one of the most nerve-wracking exiting that I have ever done. And I was pretty damn proud too! I, Lovino Romano Vargas, acted more mature in there than I have in my whole life! I didn't even curse at him, since I didn't wanna bother. Wow, I am _good._ Minus the whole caterpillar and freaking out act. I paused as the image of that look of utter despair registered in my mind. The one Spain wore as I left, slipping out the door. Why was he so sad? H-he shouldn't be sad? _Ignore it Lovino. Ignore. There's nothing no one can do to make you change your mind._ Right now, I had way more important matters to be dealing with. Like I need a scheme urgently. As in I didn't know what the hell I was going to do afterwards. No wait, I do.

**1. Find France and murder him painfully then, find out what happened before I fainted. Hm, fine I'll kill him after I get him to squeal.**

**2. Go to this allegedly legit Conference and get it over with.**

**3. Get the hell out of here before I do something regrettable happens!**

Good plan? Great, because now I'm hungry. Dinner better have fucking pasta.

_Arrivederci~!_

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_**(( A/N~ Thank you for reading. *gasps* I still didn't tell you what happened between Spain and Roma! Meh... I'll add it in later. Good guesses tho! Very close! Your reviews are golden~! Definitely encouraging. I'm making a schedule for when I update because I don't want to keep updating randomly when it's convenient. ^.^' Constructional Criticism and suggestions are encouraged too! XD Love you all~! Hope you liked this chapter! I can't wait for Spain to snap! :3 He will... soon. Cuz Hungary's gonna help.))**_


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV~ Persuasion is the way to go!**

_**Disclaimer~ I don't own Hetalia.**_

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_**~.Oo0oO.~ At the Conference ~.Oo0oO.~**_

I never thought I'd ever find Hungary's hospitality commendable. Seriously, this chick knew how to plan a dinner. Hell, it wasn't just a dinner, it was chaos here. Everyone seemed hyper, and blissful like nothing could ruin their day. Just look at Alfred and Arthur! Alfred's grinning like an idiot more than usual and Arthur's...trying to suppress that contagious smile that was so fucking obvious. They must be here on a date. _Hm, that must be nice._ A pang of pain shot through my chest. Dammit, I'm not even ecstatic to be here.

But I'd even go to one of her parties if I got invited. The interior design and decor of the the entire room alone stole everyone's attention, even almost made me forget my little siesta with Spain. Dammit, just what was he dreaming? He called me, 'Lovi'. Only Feli called me that and so did Grandpa Rome but... that's because we were family! We are supposed to call each other by our human names. I didn't mind if he called me that, and if I were to be brutally honest, I'd admit I...liked it... a lot.

_**SLAP!**_

_Snap out of it, Lovino! Pull yourself together! It hasn't even been a day and you're already falling for him! _Ow... did I have to slap myself that hard? Fine, my explanation is that Spain practically raised me, therefore as the illegitimate right to call me my human name. _Wow, that's saddening. Ugh, now where was my seat? _It was crowded, loud and very hard to make my way through without cursing out whoever bumped into me. This wasn't even a normal conference! There were no meeting tables, no seats, an- what the fuck, I see a DJ over there! Not to mention a disco ball over the dance floor. Dammit, this is a party. I should've known better and left. With over 200 countries in the room, being noisy and just plain annoying, you'd think I'd known better than to try and escape through the exit silently. Well, before my brother butted in. Can't he see I'm busy!

"Fratello~!" I heard the sound of innocence shriek from afar. There was Feli, grinning and jumpy as usual, holding on to...on to that fucking potato bastard! Argh, can't he see that I'm already in a bad mood? Why bring him along!? I swear if I was bomb, I'd detonate within seconds now and explode all over Feli and the slave driver. When he came close to range, it took all my willpower _**not**_ to start a brawl. "Ah, fratello~! I looked for you everywhere! I was so worried~! Luckily I found Germany~ Say hi Germany!"

"Hello Romano." He said in a distasteful, polite manner.

"Fuck you." I answered back, more aggressive than ever, clenching my fists. We didn't come here to acquaint ourselves with that lousy potato! I felt slightly concerned since Feli's been worrying about me this whole time and I haven't thought twice on his whereabouts.

"Romano, don't be mean to Germany! And fratello, where were you? I looked for you everywhere this afternoon!" Where was I? _Possibly molested by a French man slept with Spain, Oh you know the usual..._ Oh I forgot I was supposed to be mad at him for ditching me.

"None of your fucking business. Besides shouldn't be asking you that?! You ran off without me!" I yelled, very irate.

"Ve~! I'm sorry! Are you okay now?" Of course, I'm okay now. More or less. I waved him off, remembering my list of things to do before the conference is over.

"Never mind about that Feli. Have you seen France? If you do, tell him I need to speak to him urgently. It's important." At that Vene paused and looked more nervous than ever. He frowned and tried to give me a reassuring joking smile. At least I kept my posture.

"B-but Romano, what about Spain?" I felt something flare inside of me.

"What about Spain?! I'm talking about France here! Just tell him I need him for a moment!" And at that I stormed off, not giving him or the potato bastard a second look. Dammit, this place is huge. Almost everyone had arrived or so it seemed. It's too crowded, it's a good thing I'm not claustrophobic. Argh... I need a drink. _Where were the drinks now?_ After I found my glass of red wine in my hand_ where it belongs,_ I took a few sips and decided to be the wallflower here at this fucking lovely conference. It seemed more like a party, but they served pasta so Vene and I didn't complain and everyone seemed to have a good time. I decided to just observe everyone from afar; not to draw any attention which is safe. The peace and serenity of my current state quickly dissolved as soon as potato bastard #2 had arrived and caught sight of me.

I did want any other sane country or half-nation would do.

I turned around and marched off swiftly and silently before he could approach me. Unfortunately, that was not the case here. He placed a firm hand on my shoulder and it didn't seem that I was going to shake him anytime soon.

"Hey where are you going Romano? Awesome me just want to have a talk! You know, Man-to-Man!" I shuddered at his voice which was heavily accented and reminded me of Germany, only not as annoying. Prussia wasn't even a country anymore, dammit! What the hell is he doing here?! It wouldn't matter, no one had the guts to tell him the truth and if they did I doubt he would believe them and shrug it off as a joke. But someone should tell him anyway! Then, that laugh that came out of Prussia mouth. That albino creep couldn't get any creepier by laughing a, 'keskeskeskeskeskes!' Kind of sound. "So, tell me South of Italy, what are your plans?"

_My plans?_ I made a quizzical expression indicating I was confused as fuck and Prussia needed to elaborate on that. Either he was a mind reader or damn good at reading other people's faces. "Yeah you know! Your plan to win Tonio back! Let me give you some advice though, Having Franny tap that Italian ass of yours isn't gonna help. But if that's your battle strategy, then so be it." He lost me at Franny since I couldn't help but grin and laugh at such a stupid nickname. Talking to Prussia gave me a migraine so I couldn't catch on to exactly what he was saying. It was either about war, beer, or German sausages I'm sure; all of which displeases me greatly. So, if you don't mind, I'll just stand here ignoring Prussia and drinking my drink, thank you very much! Oh wait... Isn't Prussia France's best friend?

"Look bastard, can you just tell me where your sleazy Frenchman is? I need to talk to him about something fucking important." I recalled.

Prussia sighed heavily, "Suit yourself, but I won't stand and watch you break Tonio's heart again. He's very fragile these days. Remember my advice! Last time, awesome me saw Franny was ...hm, funny I don't remember. We will talk again Romano." Something told me that the next time I spoke to him will be under stressful circumstances. And just like that he ran off with that little birdy of his away. I should tune out everyone like how I just did with Prussia. Whatever he was blabbering on and on about, I couldn't seem to catch on, it was probably something insignificant anyways. Bastard talks too loud and fast. Hopefully, I won't have to talk to anyone else and leave as soon as possible. Buuuuut... like I said, the universe must hate me.

Fine, I'll fucking admit it! The truth is I heard every single word that deceiving fuck had said. _Break Tonio's heart?_ He broke mine, first! It's broken in a million pieces! It's like all those vases I broke when I was young due to my clumsiness. No matter how hard I try, it won't be fixed. It'll be thrown away, and that's exactly where my heart is, if you're wondering why I'm such a insensitive jerk. Yeah, I know what you all are thinking! _I don't understand, it's fucking Antonio's fault, not mine._ And don't get me started about France or else I might vomit all over the place. Maybe, I should just go home... Feli won't even miss me with that potato bastard around. My eyes darted the floor inconspicuously.

...

Sooner or later, did the she-demon who organized this entire meeting approach me. I should've seen this coming. She laid a hand on my arm and smile that hid her sadistic side I knew very well of.

"Romano! I haven't seen you in forever! Actually I have been wanting to speak with you for some time now. How are you, sweetie?" I cringed at the word of endearment. I **_did not_** have the time to deal with this shit. Most likely, I **_will never_ **have the time to satisfy Hungary's_ needs._ She looked more perky now that she's seen me. Her brown hair curled and compared to me she looked as if she could pin me down without a struggle. So, now I was on my toes, ready for any assault she was about to throw at me.

"Fine." I answered swiftly and vague. I didn't want her getting any wrong impressions from anything considering she could turn the truth and twist it around her fingers. I need another sip if I'm going to have this conversation with her now. Because I am not in the mood right now.

"Really now? Hm, are you looking for someone Roma? Because rumor has it that you and France slept together." I spit out my red wine and gagged/choked for an appropriate amount of time before screaming at her, _**"WHAT!?"**_ She gently placed a hand over my mouth as witnesses turn to see; and the reason I refer to them as witnesses is because any second now I was going to murder Hungary... brutally.

"Don't take your anger out on me. Honey, please don't drag more attention to yourself than you already have." Before I could protest, she continued, "Don't tell me you didn't know that because everyone here has heard of this." Everyone... how?!...Feli! _Che cazzo!_ It was my fucking asshole of a brother! Why did he have to go and alert the media, A.K.A Hungary!? Now, this is what I mean by the twisted version of the truth. And if France confirms it, I swear I will- "So, tell me. Is it true?"

"W-what? No! Or at least, I-I don't know! Where the fuck is Feliciano?! I'm gonna kill him-" I harshly said as I looked around for my idiot of a brother. Unfortunately, Hungary was in the way, pulling my arm back.

"_Calm down Romano._ What do you mean, _'you don't know'_? Are you in that denial stage of depression?" She asked sincerely, no, demanded an answer...sincerely if that was possible.

"Leave me the fuck alone! D-depression?!" What game what she playing at? She crossed her arms impatiently and clicked her tongue.

"I don't remember you being always this oblivious. Or are you kidding with me, hun?" She sighed, "Look, I've heard about your break-up with Spain. No, actually everyone in Europe has heard the news. Naturally, I'd think you'd be as depressed as Spain..."

A well-rounded slap was delivered to my cheek before I got a chance to speak up against this tyranny. "Why aren't you crying, whining,_ begging_ for your lover to return?! Instead you're playing around with France, his best friend? How could you?!"

Another slap. I was just as confused as you are. Are you catching onto this? I staggered back from this crazy bitch with my hand to my reddening cheek. She grabbed my collar and pulled me close to hear."Listen up. I don't care what your excuse is. Don't ruin your chance! You might not get another one." She whispered violently in my ear. Then she released me, kindly and slowly, "But I wouldn't worry too much since I'm going to help you. See how generous I am? All you have to do is stand there and look pretty! Good Bye sweetie."

My jaw dropped to the floor._ Look pretty_? I replied with a scowl as she left.

_Phew... that's a relief._

_Ignore her Lovino. Just don't get involved. There's no way she could possibly help me._ And there was no fucking way I was going to plead Spain for forgiveness. The least that bastard could do was apologize for...for l-leading me on and using me. I should've know better than to trust him. God, I'm such an idiot... Dammit. I walked over to the vacant balcony and shut the doors closed to numb the noise. It was quiet and you could hear the faint sound of laughter and music.

But now was not the time, I need to think. I bit my lip in anxiety. I only ever did that habit out of anxiety. This was overwhelming, I shouldn't be here. I don't even like people in general. _Why did I come?_ The balcony hung plants from above and I closed the drapes near the door to isolate myself. _Why? Dammit,_ why!?_ I need to remember what happen on that day. Maybe then, I'd have the passion to go through hell._Leaning against the rail I pinched the bridge of my nose in irritation and furrowed my eyebrows as I thought back to that traitorous day.

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_**((A/N~ Constructional Criticism is encouraged. Hope that is fine. :3 Also the next chapter... INCREDIBLY hard to write because... well it's has... fluff. Lots of it. It's a flashback chapter~! Muahahaha~! Reviews encourage me to write since Im just as insecure as Lovi~! **__**Thank you for reading! Ciao! **_))


	5. Chapter V

**Chapter V~ Trying to Know the one you Love**

_**Disclaimer~ I do not own Hetalia.**_

_((Warning~ Smut and pleasedontreadthisbecauseitsembarrassing. Thanks~!))_

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_~December 1913, Hungary's World Conference Flashback~_

"Roma~ why do you look so sad, mi querido?" Antonio cooed, as he pinned both my hands above my head, intertwining our fingers in the process so delicately. Fuck, and we're both in our tuxedos too. I swear if he ruins my suit, I will ruin him! And he refused to drop the topic, becoming more frustrated with each and every answer I filled with denial and regret. Antonio gazed down at me with those dark green feverish eyes. _When had they changed?_ "What happened?"

"Nothing." I lied, a reply that Antonio was not satisfied with. He furrowed his eyebrows deeper and wore a conflicted expression. It was obvious he could pinpoint every slight difference when it came to his. He knew it was not just, _'nothing'_. His teeth clenched tight. And suddenly, I felt his grip tighten on me. As soon as his frustration came, it quickly dissolved into an expression of blissful serenity. How the fuck was he able to change that fast was beyond me.

"Alright Roma..." He pressed a loving kiss at the side of me jaw. I flinched and moved my head back. I bit my lip ferociously and just knew a fierce blush spread like wildfire across my cheeks. Antonio moved closer, closing the distance between us. "But remember, you can tell me anything mi amor~" Another heated kiss planted at my neck. Then, another and another and another... "Am I clear?" At one point, I lost my sense on reality and didn't notice when he started planting the same long kisses at the junction between my shoulders and neck together. Soon, those kisses sucked, teased, licked, nimbled, then just downright bit my weak spot. I clenched at his shirt and shuddered in delight.

"S-spain...nnngh... you leave a fucking mark and n-next time I'll leave your fucking ass." I glared, telling a lie that I knew would break him. _Was I fucking panting just now? ..._

_Okay, screw this... I'm out!_

"Hm?" Still nibbling on that one s-sensitive spot, he moaned. Once he broke away, my hand shot up to cover the bruised mark. Dammit! "Mi querido, now will you mind telling me why you are not happy? " Too close... now he was too close to my face. I looked into his eyes, frightened. I could've sworn I've seen lust, hunger, and desire in those emerald orbs._ Why? Why did they flicker on and off like a switch?_ Those beautiful eyes could easily change from pure innocence and compassion to that sadistically dark consuming eyes. Wow, I should write fucking poetry!

"I-I uh... can't say." If I did, I knew I'd be in deep trouble. Spain sighed tiredly, letting go both my hands to ruffle my hair and to tilt my chin up diagonally, his hand gently caressing my neck before moving in so close I could feel his breath on my ear whispering. "Are you sure about that, mi tesoro?" He hotly whispered before letting his graze teasingly up my neck and nibbled on my ear,waiting for an answer. Why did he have to be the country of passion? Somehow his hands made its way under the hem of my shirt. Oh, now I see what the fucker is trying to do.

"Y-yes." Like magic, did he pull back immediately, and gave me a look of disbelief and confusion. I couldn't tell him, how could I tell him I still didn't believe him when he said he loved me more than my brother. It's his fault anyway for being so damn affectionate all the time. Fuck... I need to consult with someone other than Antonio and Feliciano. _Who else can I call?_

_**"Spain and the South half of Italy, where ever you two wankers are, you need to get your arses back to the conference that is starting now!"** _The intercom screamed in a displeased, impatiently cranky British accent. One that I knew Antonio despised so much. He let out a low growl and had some sort of glare which frightened me a little. Instantaneously, the mood was gone.

_**"Britain! This is my house, not yours! Many apologies but Spain, Romano, you are the only two not present at the conference. Come immediately. Thank you sweeties."** _Hungary announced. A blush -undoubtedly- crawled its way to my cheeks.

"W-we should go." I squeaked, out of the Spaniard's embrace. I can't believe I'm going to the conference all hot and messy.

"Ah, yeah we should Lovi~!" He rubbed the back of his neck, in slight embarrassment. There was a tortuously disappointing atmosphere that reeked of desperation. Damn it...

A second later, our lips smashed together and he pushed me against the wall. I tried my hardest to put up a fight. We had a fucking conference to attend and if we delayed any longer, they'd... assume that we...whatever! But is it really a fight when you're up against Spain? If I were to be honest, I wouldn't remember much about this later, so let me fill you in as much as possible.

He...

Yes, he... Antonio completely took over, I don't even have an explanation of how. The soft sloppy kisses changed into a much rougher and ragged kind. His hand sliding down to rest on the small of my back. moving sensually and suddenly. At one point, he gave more of those love bites which he refused to call them hickeys. He tugged on my collar and broken some of the top button of my white shirt. Dammit, I tried to protest but he mustve acted more rash in response.

"Nnngh...n-no more.. S-spain...stop!" I squeaked out to no prevail. He forced a knee between my own two legs separating them, just right below my you know what. And pushed our bodies together, crashing as we grinded our hips together repeatedly as I tangled my fingers in his dark brown curls, grabbed them. Then, he just downright bit one lovebite so hard I cried. "Ah, ow!" Quickly enough, did he replace those sadistic love bites to apologetic kisses on my neck once he realized he was actually hurting me. Why? He challenged one more heated kiss before pulling away once more.

"What?" I growled, breathing erratically. He smiled sweetly before giving a chaste kiss on my cheek.

"Roma, we have a meeting to attend." Damn, I hated that excuse. I broke eye contact as the distance between us furthered.

"But... after the meeting, when we get home." I perked up at the word, 'home.' Knowingly it was Spain's house. "Do you know I'll do then?"

I gulped, "What?"

"I'm going to carry you up the stairs to our bedroom and..." His green eyes darkened simultaneously, "...pound you so hard, even the neighbors could hear you scream my name." So seductively. I blushed. Fuck, how am I supposed to attend the meeting like this! I can't speak. Oh fuck, I can't even stutter a word out! "Okay Lovi~?" He asked. Of course he asked! He always asked for my permission first. He says that he does only because he wants to make sure the feeling's mutual, but if you ask me its because he just loves seeing me stutter and blush even more than I am right now. Fucking sadist.

I nodded as he held my hand with a tight grip, smiling down on me. We silently walked towards the conference room. Once again, Spain perplexed me. How could he change the aura that quickly, that effortlessly and still come off looking like the innocent child he is? I'm starting to wonder about his past yet. Wait... how is it I've known this man my entire life and I didn't know his history. And by history I don't just mean sexual history, I mean Spanish history in general! Or why he hated certain countries that shall remain nameless due to reasons. Oh fuck it, we all know Spain hates England, Netherlands, and possibly his brother Portugal. I'm not so sure, since they never talk anymore so I assume their history is bad. Ha! I said all the countries that Spain prohibited me to say! Aw man this is awesome, I said it! (In my head.) Fuck.

What is it your trying to tell me? Stop being a wuss and just ask him? Well let me tell you, I ALREADY TRIED (and failed). I've asked Antonio about this countless times and each time, he refuses to give me a satisfactory answer. So, instead he'll...distract me in any way possible. And damn, it works. Antonio's a manipulative bastard, that's why. You just don't know it yet. Of course, the question always ends up resurfacing and I only get more and more anxious and curious about the idea that Antonio's trying to hide something from me. FROM ME...! His...his...l-lover.

…

Let's erase that moment out of mind and move on, shall we? Damn... what should I do? I mean this is obviously a problem, it's like a relationship built up on lies, Spain doesn't trust me! Dammit, maybe I should ask someone about this. Someone experienced... Only three people come in mind when I say experienced:

**France:** But that fuckface is going no where near me! The day he grabs my ass is the day he dies!...In the hands of Spain because I can't fight when he's still groping my ass. Fucking pervert.

**Hungary:** OUT! No crazy psycho bitch is helping me. You'd have to have lost your sanity before letting this yaoi-loving bitch give you advice on a homosexual relationship. And we all know if I left her in charge, I'll end up having sex and with no answers, a complete failure there.

And last but not least...

**Italy:** The chances of me asking my own brother for advice is slim to none. The only reason I'd ever consider doing so, is because his relationships lasts so damn long and happy and well. Hell, I wonder when he'll realizes that potato bastard looks exactly like Holy Rome. Nah, I'll just be evil and never bring it up ever again. The idea that my brother is dating that macho potato still amazes me. IN A FUCKING BAD WAY. Self-explanatory? I hope so, because I'm not fucking explaining it again.

… Now what was I supposed to do?

Ugh... now I really wish I was a more likable country. Maybe then, I'd have actual friends to talk to about this.

_**~.Oo0oO.~**_

After the fucking crazy conference, I was ready to fall face first onto the stone pavement once I took a step outside Hungary's mansion. After three long, hard, painful hours we accomplished nothing.

Nothing at all.

I don't even think anyone agreed on helping to solve the world's problems. What we **did** agree on was what to have for dinner afterwards. _What the fuck?!_ Okay, whoever the fuck decided the personifications of the countries should work together to solve the world's economy, global warming, world hunger, etc. Must be a real fucking idiot. I can barely figure out Algebra, let alone solve fucking global warming. America can figure out how to fix that, because I'm out! Speaking of America... why is he walking towards me? Oh no, he's approaching me. _Flee Lovino!_ I should turn and run now. And that's just what I did before he grabbed my shoulder and forcibly made me face him. _How did I get captured so easily?_

"Dude! Why are you running? I need to spread the news." He said grinning widely.

"I-I'm not fucking running! What news?!" I retorted.

"The next World Conference is scheduled at Britain's place this time! So, no need to ride a plane this time. Spread the news!"

"W-wait, why at his house?" I wondered since Antonio will most-likely throw a huge tantrum protesting going to said meeting like last time. Concerned, that he will most-likely convince me to stay and face the tortuous consequences afterwards. I might as well ask.

"Because I'm staying at his house that weekend, no wait month. And I don't want to go all the way back to New York to prepare a Conference. So, Arty said he could host the next one for everyone else's convenience!" Well...this is a problem and definitely not to my convenience. It's too bad this came out of my mouth:

"You can do that?" In awe, I tell you. In disbelieving awe and inspiration.

"Yeah! Just ask your boss, dude. I'm sure he'll be fine with moving the conference location!" America chimed.

"No. No. No, I meant you can stay over at Britain's house?"_ Why can't I stay at Spain's?_ "Why? How?!"

America laughed, "Why not? There's no rule against it." Oh, that's true. But then, why don't I stay over at Spain's? Surely, there must be a reason since I havent thought of it till now. Wait, why is the fucker smirking? America seemed to be amused now.

"Oh don't tell me you don't live with...with...hm..." And then he stood there pondering over his name. After a ridiculous amount of time passed, I decided to butt in.

"Spain! His name his Spain! And in case you've forgotten he's the one who fucking founded the New World first!"

"No. He didn't find me first. Arty did."

"No, I'm pretty damn sure Antonio did. Remember? Year 1492? When Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue." Christopher Columbus was Italian btw, hopefully I crammed some history in your mind by now.

"Oh! Was he the conquistador who killed the Aztec and Mayan empires-?" He paused once he saw the outraged disbelief written on my face.

"Killed? Spain wouldn't even hurt a tomato plant!" I yelled.

"Oh...man... Romano, is it? Yeah I agree, he has changed. Apparently, he like a completely different person now. I forgot you were under his care. Guess he never told you, hmm makes sense..." America seemed to mutter to himself, which only raged me more.

"HEY! Stop talking to yourself! What the fuck are you talking about? Never told me what!?" I screamed, only growing more and more frustrated. How the hell does America know and I don't? Dude thinks hamburger's are the cure for everything!

"He never told you..." He laughed. "I use to be the same centuries ago. You should ask him, dude."

"I did! He won't tell me!" I bet I sound like a child now.

"Then, find out for yourself. I can't tell you since I was just a toddler back then. Ask someone who was there back then. Oh I know! You should go ask Arty!"

"What?" I asked.

"He'll tell you. He was there back then, or you could ask Netherlands or France. They were there too." He offered.

No and hell no. I bit my lip. Oh damn it, if Spain ever finds out, I don't know what'd I'd do. But if I don't, I'll never find out. Besides America seems to be right, for once. I mean, he must be doing something right all this time. He's happily in a relationship with that grouchy Eyebrows and he knows everything about his past. And this is coming from a guy who went to war with Eyebrows and still ended up practically married to him!

"I don't think-" I started out, before I was rudely interrupted.

"I could take you to him. Maybe somewhere private?" America offered, astonished by his generosity, I decided he would take it.

I sighed, there's no way Spain can find out,"Yeah. Okay let's go."

Even though there was an alarming warning in the back of my mind that told me to turn back now.

Hnnn... no.

* * *

_**((A/N~ I am so sorry. I'm such a newbie at writing fluff or smut or whatever that was in the beginning. Constructional Criticism is encouraged. I need a Beta for this kinda stuff. Lots of Love, Update later~! Bai~!))**_


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter VI~ How to deal with an obnoxious American and his Brit**

_**Disclaimer~ I do not own Hetalia.**_

* * *

_Oh fuck, fuck, fuck..._ I'm not ready for this. I winced in mental pain and that's when America decided to start the engine. I didn't mind driving in America's car since it was Ford's new Model T. Hm...one day, Feliciano and I are going to design a car that will outdo this model. Heh, _faster_ too. Now, usually you'd naturally think Id be going home back to the heart of Italy where my heart lies. But_ nooo,_ I don't think America knows the meaning of privacy or even knows how to keep a secret. He might as well screamed the truth because he had to inform everyone that me and him are going to an amusement park.

_***Flashback 5 minutes ago***_

_"ATTENTION ALL. I, America, and this little guy here..." He fucking patted my back. "Southern Italy are going to an unknown faraway amusement park that none of shall know of." I hunched over in the sheer agony and embarrassment of it all. Is he serious?_

_All the nations looked over at us in awe and wonder. As if I know what they're thinking about. This all sounds like one big motherfucking excuse for something top secret! I looked for Spain in crowd, only to find out that he's not amongst the groups of people I can visually see. America suddenly grabbed my scarf and pulled._

_"America, do you really need to..." Me trying to control my words and choosing VERY carefully. Not cursing, painful._

_"YES. Now, as I was saying dude. If anyone needs us, dont. See ya' later!" America said as he stormed off like lightening, grabbing me by scarf. Ugh... where are we going?_

**_*Present*_**

Really, _an amusement park_?!

Of all places why would I want to go to a dingy, smelly amusement park?! Well I guess it wouldn't really matter since it was a lie. America doesn't know how to lie, much less how to stay quiet. If I ever plan to, remind me **_NEVER_** to rob a bank with America. That would be suicide for my wallet, let alone my dignity.

Now, with all the other nations including Spain at the dinner party, this was a perfect getaway. Hnnnn... maybe I should ask where exactly I'm going, since America's driving.

"Where are we going?" I asked once we were on the road.

"England." America grinned.

_"What?" _I asked sharply.

"England. London, England. It's awesome. Arty loves visitors and tourists to see Big Ben, the HUGE clock tower that was just built in the name of their queen. Hah, he says its better than the Eiffel Tower France has but I-" America rambled on and on about as I was at my wit's end with everyone in the fucking world.

"America! I don't want to go to fucking _England_! I thought you meant we'd all meet up at a old, hidden bar somewhere!"

"In England, they call those pubs."

"Why are we going to England?! We could've just spoke at the conference! That bastard was back there! Go back!" I screeched, flailing my arms at the brawns vs. brains jerk steering the wheel.

"Dude, calm down! England left already to home right before we left. Hes probably there by now."

"Then why-?!"

"You said you wanted privacy right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

"Well won't it be a bit suspicious if you leave in England's car? That guy you like...er..."

"Spain!"

"Yeah him! Won't he be worried if you left with England?" America explained, looking at me expectantly.

...

O-OhhFor once America's making sense.

Wait a minute...

Fuck.

_No._

How could I forget?

_I FUCKING FORGOT TO TELL SPAIN I WAS LEAVING WITH AMERICA!_

Dammit, of all days I had to be stupid, why today?! H-he won't worry, will he? I mean... its not like we live or go home together. Fuck, but I can't shake the feeling that I want to! Ugh...not tonight. Usually after conferences, we'd go to dinner or something. Usually during those dinners, he'd order something with tomatoes. And if he dares order for me, I'd yell at him. But who can complain when there's tomatoes! Well, it's not like matters anyway, I always end up complaining if its not top-notch Italian cuisine. Then, that bastard would go all sweet on me, and try all his being to make me blush.

Last time, I could've sworn he spilled wine on my clothes just so he could clean it up himself. Dammit, I should've said something before I left. Hopefully, America loud announcement was heard by him. But... I can't shake the feeling I'm making a _**big**_ mistake.

"So, if we're going to England, why can't Britain and I just talk in a local cafe or something?" Why do _I_ have to be miles away from home?

America flinched. "Dude! What if Spain sees you and Arty in a local cafe? We'd be in deep shit! And he'd bring that medieval axe of his again! Besides he'd never go to Arty's house." True. Needless to say, Spain carries around an axe whenever he senses danger. Which is you ask me is fucking insane! What do I have to argue against that? I shuddered at the thought of Spain catching me at a cafe with Britain. Spain's jealousy and anger comes off very bold when it comes to his enemies.

Only hours later did I realize that we were following a car. A dingy, bland, old car and that fucking car's driver was none other than...

"Britain! There he is! You said he was at home, you bastard!" I yelled, jumping from my seat, hitting my head on the roof of the car, and pointing an alarming finger at the back of the Brit's head.

"Romano dude! Sit down! What if someone sees you!"

"Why the fuck are we following Britain?!" I growled.

America laughed weakly and nervously.

"We are? Oh what a coincidence! I didn't know-"

"THAT'S FUCKING BULLSHIT! WE'VE BEEN FOLLOWING THAT CAR SINCE WE LEFT AND YOU KNOW IT!" I screamed, proceeding to choke America as he accidentally turned the wheel and stepped on the gas. The smell and sound of screeching and burning tires roamed and caught the attention of the bystanders. As we exceeded Britain's car and halted abruptly, which created a domino effect of Britain's car stopping and many others. Ooh, they sounded their horns and started yelling. Where is my middle finger? Damn it, busy choking the life out of America.

Britain was the first to unbuckle his seat belt and fast walk towards us. I must say, I'm impressed that his intimidating walk made America flinch again even if Britain at least a head smaller than his lover. He knocked on the roof of the car as we both looked out and saw the most disturbing sight two children could see.

A grouchy Brit who looked as if he were about to spank the ill-tempered child here. _*coughs*_ America. _*coughs*_ Not me. _*coughs*_ You could see the fear in the Americans eyes. Hm... this road trip isn't as unpleasant as I thought it would be.

_**~.Oo0oO.~**_

"Hey! Why are they towing my car?!" America whined, watching his car being towed away desperately. Britain sighed, very annoyed at the moment.

" You wankers created a bloody mess of things here. And more importantly, why are you following me?!" He asked in outrage and anger. I better explain...

"Because I wanted to go to your house!"_ What?_ "You didn't even explain why you'd ban me anyways!" America boasted before I could. I watched in awe and horror, coming to my senses. This wasn't for me, I was excuse for America. I should've he wouldn't have done it out of the kindness of heart. Wow. I was not expecting that.

"America! For the last time, I told why already! If we went home together, everyone at the conference would think we're... that we're..." He shied away from the last few words, as a tiny blush rose upon the Brit's face.

"What? That we're dating? Dude, everyone knows that! Even the Southern Half of Italy knows that."

Why does everyone fucking call me that!?

Even if it is true, I still consider myself fairly human. America turned to me for confirmation of my knowledge so, I just shrugged and nodded. Everyone knew of their relationship anyway. "See!" America proved in eager.

"Alfred, that is not the point! W-we can't even afford to spend weekends together. Didn't you listen to our meeting? The issue is only getting worse, and the one thing you're worried about is our relationship?! That's absurd! Ridiculous!"

Hnnn... this is part where I try my hardest to remember what was spoken (or screamed) about at the meeting. I missed half of it due to a distraction called Spain. The other half... I may or may not have fallen asleep. Italy could fill me in on how it went on later. I wasn't too crazy about listening to this conversation either.

In the end, we all bunked up in Britain's car all the way to England which was so fuckin uncomfortable. But I guess it wasn't that bad considering Britain made America sit in the back and I got shotgun. Heh... actually it was funny seeing the American pout for a change. On another note: Britain wasn't as bad as my imaginative mind made him out to be. I don't know why Veneziano and I were ever afraid of the old guy, in some ways he reminded me of...well...me.

Ignore that last statement!

I'm not sure why Spain would hold a grudge against him anyway. Or maybe I'm letting me riding shotgun deter my thoughts cause let me tell you it made me so fucking happy to not sit in the back.

"Now, one of you wankers tell what the bloody hell happened?" Britain asked, and considering he was glaring at America through the side mirror, I decided to kindly let him explain.

"Wait... Arthur, your driving the wrong way! Your house is that away!" He yelled, pointing in the opposite direction.

"And how is he supposed to go home then?" Britain replied, referring and pointing to me. Now, I feel like a nuisance. Ugh... this is America's fucking fault! He's using me as a excuse to go to Britain's house, dammit! How am I supposed to go home then?!

"He can take the bus!"

"FUCK NO! YOU THINK YOU CAN USE ME TO YOUR ADVANTAGE AND STILL EXPECT ME TO TAKE THE FUCKING BUS!?" I felt a rant surge within me. I turned to face him.

"Arty! He's yelling at me! Tell him to stop!" He whined.

"No, thank you. I think you deserve this one."

"What?!"

Then I started yelling at him in my native language: Italian. And if you didn't know better, you'd better be fucking scared because when your parents start yelling at you in their first language, you know shit just got real.

After that was done, I ended up having too much of a sore throat to yell and decided to calm down and America started explaining to England why I was here. England stared at me like I was a madman and said no. Screw it if I was going to leave after all the shit Alfred just put me through!

"Romano, It's not my place to say." Britain said. And just like that I lost all newfound respect I had for the guy. "You should ask ...er...him." He cringed as he referred to Spain. I glared at America, who chuckled nervously back.

"Aw, come on Arty!"

"I told you not to call me that!"

"Only if you tell Southern Italy the truth." He persuaded. Britain sighed deeply frustrated and look back at me annoyed.

"Very well, but note that my version of the truth might me different than that wanker's. Understood?"

I nodded in approval, awaiting curiously for him to explain in detail of what Spain was trying to hide from me exactly. Britain bit his lip and looked conflicted. Leaving us with a moment of silence. Oh but don't worry! By no means was it an awkward silence, it was more like an irritating silence. Hm... maybe he's waiting for something, seems like it. Perhaps he's waiting for a confirmation or approval. He is known to a gentlemen (towards woman).

"You can fucking begin now." I ordered solemnly, glaring at the Brit. Who then dared to glare right back at me.

"Tsk, You better watch your potty mouth mister, hasn't _he_ ever taught you manners? Seems not." He said as if I were child.

"You shouldn't be even talking since you raised _**this**,_ bastard_!_" I yelled pointing to the American shoving chocolate bars down his throat. Was that a chocolate smudge on his cheek? Britain blushed, looking at America becoming more flustered before looking down. Recollecting himself from spatting another insult at me.

"Yes, seeing how that is. America..." He turned to him, blushing uncontrollably. Oh dammit, this is embarrassing to watch. America looked back at him in awe. "Would you _please_ leave the room as I speak to Romano."_  
_

"Why? I know all of this already." He said, gulping the last of his candy.

"Yes, however I'm afraid I haven't told you the entire story. You don't need to know this, but Romano does. So, here." He gave America what seemed like a lifetimes worth of pounds, and looked at him expectantly to leave. I must say, the way America looked at the moment was pure astonishment. I scoffed, since now I didn't feel so bad that I didn't know shit.

"BUT ARTHUR-!" He cried.

"That's enough out of you. A-and lower your voice, you wanker!" England replied.

"_**NO.**_ That's unfair! You have to tell me, I'm your lover!" He yelled once more. Some neighboring cars looked sideways towards us. Oh fuck, did they think I said that!? Dammit, why did I have to sit shotgun!

"SHHH!" Britain and I hushed in unison. Britain's blush grew, why does this seem familiar?

"Y-you bloody wanker! If you don't listen to what I say, then you cannot stay over at my manor anymore!" He threatened, this threat worked wonders I tell you. America got what he wanted right? He stuttered and looked immensely confused. It took two whole minutes for him to reply.

...

**"_Fine._"** America said resolutely and serious. It was so out-of-character that Britain had shaken a bit to the tone, and I turned back to see a brooding America. No, not annoying for once. It was actually frightening. I gulped and faced first. It's not smart to have a superpower like America mad. Britain drove in silence for a little while then abruptly parked in front of a hotel. Thank god, it's not me going in there.

"I'll come and pick you up in two hours after I drop Romano here home." He stated, as America rudely exited the car, ignoring his lover as well. Why do I have a feeling that this was my fault here? Britain seemed upset and guilty as well. "T-this could've been easily avoided if you-"

"I know." He said angrily, seething through his teeth. I knew what is was like if I were in his shoes. To not have the only person you ever loved not trust you... yeah that's aggravating, especially if they're not comfortable explaining. I thought back to Spain who tried everything in his power to avoid the subject I was so keen on understanding. I need to know Spain's past as to what kind of man was he. You can't blame me for trying.

Although, I had a sick feeling in my stomach America was going to call me later to spill the beans. Details and no less. I have to figure out a lie or a plan soon then. Even if I knew America didn't have my personal cell phone number, I knew he'd find out sooner or later. After Britain got back onto the road, he sighed in relief. At least he wasn't stalling anymore.

"I have only one condition." He said, breaking the dead silence. "Do not tell Alfred a word of what I am going to tell you."

"I was going to lie anyways." I scowled. Like I was that stupid.

"Good." He replied. "Now then, since you came all this way. I might as well tell you. But note that you are not going to like what you hear. Is that clear?" He warned. I nodded, knowing anything Spain had to hide wasn't good news.

If anything, deep down I really, really, **really** hoped it wasn't bad news either.

* * *

_**((A/N~ I think Romano and America make very good friends. England... not so much. Reveiw~! Lots of love. Ciao~! Constructional Criticism and Suggestions are always welcome! ~Annabelle ))**_


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter VII~ The Truth Hurts.**

_**Disclaimer~ I do not own Hetalia.**_

_((A/N~ This chapter is written a lot like your History's textbook, if there is anything historically incorrect please feel free to inform me. Thank you~! Now sit back, relax, grab that bowl of popcorn and I hope you enjoy this chapter~! XD))_

* * *

Never in my life, would I ever consider even _talking_ to Britain, let alone sit next to him in **HIS** car. Mostly because he scared the crap out of me. But in reality I never should've been afraid anyways. Because in reality we share countless things in common. In my opinion, if he didn't suck so much at cooking, he'd be a decent kind of guy. Back to my theory, where we both share the same mind.

**_1. We both share the same dislike for overly cheerful people._**

**_2. We both share the same dislike for people in general._**

**_3. We are both the same age._**

**_4. We are both short by our lover's standards._**

**_5. And we both agree that half of Europe are idiots._**

That aside, I fucking hate the taste of his tea and his cooking. It's criminal. Now, I know what you're all thinking... _"But Romano why would you ever eat his food in the first place?!" _And I agree it was the worst decision **OF MY LIFE.** Well, one time Feliciano and I dared each other to eat it to prove who was more of a man. He ate one fucking bite of Britain's pasta and flat out fainted out cold on the floor. I ate it, and end up barfing and sick. So, I think I won that contest. But don't ask me again, because that pasta was disgusting! It was then I believed that Britain was some sort of demon from hell. Yea, only demons can make pasta taste that bad.

Other than that, Feliciano and I were so fucking scared by him, we'd shit our pants whenever we heard that the British are coming. I guess it was because he held a legacy, and ruthless one. This was the country that bullied France to bankruptcy... _(whiiich I have no problem with, but Spain does.)_ This was the country that had colonies everywhere on every continent... _(almost everywhere.)_ This was the country that discovered America... _(who later then turned on him.)_

Well, because he practically had fuckface on his knees once crying for mercy, you could say I had grown a deep admiration and maybe even a little respect for him. Let me tell you, it's almost impossible to gain my respect. Yet, I would never ever, not in a million years even want to be his henchman. One reason, it'll be weird calling Britain, "boss." Two, because just look at America! He had declare war against Britain for his freedom and even then it stirred up some bad blood between them for over 100 years! Damn, I'm not even that cruel, to start a war for independence. If I did that with Spain, I'd lose due to my intolerance to his constant whining and crying. I wonder who it was harder for. No wonder Britain's such a grouch all the time!

Anyways back to the essential purpose of this whole fiasco hmm? Right now I'm in a particularly happy mood since I'm about to get what I want. Probably more happier than children on Christmas day getting gifts. Hell, this was fucking better than gifts, it was the motherfucking truth! Britain, however, silenced himself for a bit muttering to himself how he could begin to start. I, being the younger naive half-nation, took that as a good sign.

"Romano, the reason you don't remember much is because you were just a child back then, right? No less than six years old. I can start off by asking you how much you do know." He said, or finished. Was he expected me to answer that? How much I know? "Well?!" Britain asked impatiently and grumpy as usual, taking occasional glances at me, while attempting to drive soundlessly peaceful.

"Well if knew anything, I wouldn't be fucking here right now. Would I?" I counter-acted. I would much rather be in Rome by now, in my house, on my sofa, drinking my wine, watching my soap oper- I mean reality tv shows... in Spanish. Britain scoffed at my language and let out a dark chuckle.

"Nothing? Really? Nothing at all. What? Did that wanker lock you up inside a box for all of your younger years?" Britain asked, in sarcasm from his tone. I wasn't even phased when he called Spain a _"wanker"_. When in reality, I was sorta blocked out from the world for a thousand years. Now that I think about it, I was never allowed to step outside the medieval manor, much less talk to anyone of the other countries.

...

Not that I didn't try, but the doors and windows were all locked. Hell, I didn't even know Asia existed! I've always lived inside that mansion, inside the gates, and occasionally the enormous tomato garden Spain owned which led me to satisfactory. I had only ever known Antonio, Femke, and Dan (before he left) and occasional some other henchman's who came and when I DID finally have a chance to get out using the _"I'm-visiting-my-brother"_ excuse, I got captured by a Turkey. Only to find out that motherfucker Espana's been stalking me the entire time. How creepy... which got me more suspicious than usual about the entire thing. So as you can tell, I was gawking at Britain like he was a god.

"Just start at the beginning." I waved him off. He looked at me questionably and then continued, "Very well then." And thus he began.

_**~.Oo0oO.~ The Age of Discovery**_

"As you can probably tell the early 15th century was a very significant date in which embarks the Age of Explorations. A powerful turning point in history that would last for 2 more centuries." He started off, as if he were reading straight from a High Schooler's Global History Textbook. Aha, okay I knew this part.

"When Spaain discovered America." I pointed out smirking, just to irritate him a little. I will admit I felt a smart ass now, but it was a good feeling. Heh.

"Discovered the New World." He corrected the term harshly, "America was not founded yet."

Mission Accomplished. At least I agitated him a bit.

"Well at least you know that much." He sighed. "As I was saying, at the time the Ottoman Empire (Modern day Turkey) was like the super power in Europe, Africa, and Asia, controlled all the trade routes, and the Mediterranean sea trade plus taxes." He explained. "Do you know what that means?" He looked at me and I shrugged. "It means we needed goods from Asia but it cost us quite heavily, which is why this discovery was so revolutionary, it gave us hope."

At the word hope, he chuckled a little as if it were an inside joke. I stayed quiet and listened attentively not letting go off one single word.

"But," he began. "It was a race against time. You had to have godspeed to become successful. It all started when Portugal (Spain's brother) was keen on searching for a new trade route in West Africa without going through the Sahara Desert. His explorations influenced other nations to follow in his footsteps. So, when the discovery of the New World was known, all nations in Europe wanted to get rich and make investments in colonies in my eyes the only two nations who came close to conquering all was me, of course, and _him_."

He clenched his teeth, squinting on the road trying to pay attention to driving and less on the rage and grudge he still held. I knew him referred to Spain. But why did Britain hate him so damn much? They were equally important and alike in dignity. The only conclusion I could come up with was that he was potentially... jealous of Spain. Although if I asked the fucker right now, I just he'll deny it immediately. So, what's the point?

"I colonized near the northeast end of the New World, and he conquered the south, western parts. Do you what they call those who conquer land for themselves in Spanish?" He said the language as if it were an ungodly name.

"Conquistadors. Wait, what the fuck?" I answered, confused. I was almost certain the only Spanish I knew was how to say "kiss me". And like hell that was useful! Only when Femke comes over, but if anything it's a burden because Spain still tries to get me to say it to him. _"A-Antonio... Bésame Mucho!" _Was probably just what he was expecting. AND LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU THAT I WONT SAY IT FOR AT LEAST ANOTHER FUCKING CENTURY! Just to be clear.

"Yes, Spain was one of those men." He grunted. Emphasizing the word, _"those"._ "They were ruthless when it came to power you should know. Not that it was only him, it was everyone who colonized in the New World. Its a haunted, dark time in history no one dares speak of. Perhaps that is why you are so clueless. In my perspective, we were all demons during those days."

"Wait a minute!" I paused, suddenly becoming defensive. "What do you mean? What did he do that was so bad?"

"He..." Britain looked at me with a painful expression clearly written on his face. "Destroyed ancient civilizations completely and in the most gruesome way." In detail, Britain explained it to me. It took all my willpower not to jump out the car in horror.

_**~.Oo0oO.~ King Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon**_

"In the year 1400, due to differences and opinions in religious matters. My beautiful queen Elizabeth declared herself and accepted England's Protestantism. However, Spain felt betrayed and declared war against me for a number of reasons."

"What reasons?" I asked in pure curiosity. Spain feeling betrayed was a shocker to me, not once did I think that either one of us would betray each other so much as to declare fucking war.

"Well, to be honest, once, we were rather friendly and open and we uh..._ got married_." He said it so distastefully like it was acid on his lips. "But that did not last long! It was our bosses decision, not ours!" He quickly corrected, with a red tint growing furiously on his cheek. "We agreed to wed royalty from our countries to symbolize our union as a strong one. And the pitiful humans ruined it all. I reckon you are aware of King Henry VIII?" He asked.

"Isn't he the fat, greedy king who couldn't keep it in his fucking pants?' I asked, vaguely. "Didn't he divorce all his wives for an heir?" I didn't notice how mad Britain was until he corrected me.

"I'll have you know, in his younger years, he was rather fit and muscular. Beside back then having a large stomach was not at all looked down upon, rather than blessed because it meant you ate well and was wealthy. It's different in this day and age."

"Really? Why don't you go and tell America that?" I remarked.

Britain snorted in response.

"As I was saying, back to your last statement about his... _wife issues._ King Henry's first wife, Catherine of Aragon was the daughter of Spanish Royalty and she was a fine, virtuous woman. I cannot insult her in anyway, she served her duty as queen well. She was to be wedded to Henry's older brother Arthur, but sooner than later he feel gravely ill and passed away leaving Henry to the throne and new fiance. Henry was rather... an immature fellow who wanted it all. Money, Woman, Power, Sex, Status, and Glory. Unfortunately, there was one thing he could not attain due to the enchantress Fate."

I yawned in response. When did this turn into a fucking English History Lesson?! What does this have to do with Spain anyways?

'A son. An heir to his throne. He was afraid it would be the end of his family name, Tudor. Yes, he had two daughters. One by Catherine named Mary. You most likely know her by this name: Bloody Mary. But she comes in later. As Catherine aged, it was soon realized she could not bore a healthy, strong son."

"Oh I know this part! Then, a sexy woman came along and seduced him right?"

"Y-yes." I could've sworn I saw his eye twitch. "That _"sexy"_ witch was none other than Anne Boleyn. And she had stolen Henry's heart. He let a seductive treacherous snake into his mind and messed with it. When he demanded her to come to bed with him, she blatantly said no. And that drove Henry mad. I believe that was when it all went downhill. She proposed that perhaps if he divorced his current wife, and wedded her instead. Henry would have an heir and his desires fulfilled."

Britain scratched his head a little.

"Fate decided to crash down on the royal family once again. When the Pope declined to annul Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon's marriage, Henry took it into his own hands and declared England Protestant, cutting his ties to Rome. Henry, in return, got excommunicated by the Church. Finally, divorcing Catherine of Aragon, Spain had gotten resentful of me. It was around that time, our hatred for each other grew. What annoyed me the most around that time, was that Spain kept a positive attitude, although with a dark sense of humor. Mentioning in due time, my people would pay for their insolence. In the hopes that I would be punished." He bit his lip.

"The whole dilemma seems ridiculous now, since Henry ended up giving Anne the death sentence on the guillotine and beheaded her at the Tower of London."

"Why did he do that?"

"Because although he moved mountain's to marry her, she did not produce any male offspring. And was found guilty and arrested on the charges of adultery. Moving on to his next four wives who his would soon divorce afterwards and no results. It was all in vain. Anne, did however, bore him a daughter, beautiful daughter named Elizabeth I." Britain smiled a little at the mention of her name, as if Elizabeth brought light unto him in those dark days.

"That's fucking messed up." I replied, bringing an immediate frown in return.

"Uh... yes I suppose it was." He coughed a little. "Finally after King Henry's reign of terror ended with no sons as heir, Mary (Catherine of Aragon's daughter) took the throne. And in vengeance of her late mothers she had all those who defied her hung, murdered, killed, or burnt. That is why she was known as "_Bloody Mary_." After she died, her sister Elizabeth I took the throne into what I call the English Renaissance. She was Protestant, and that was before Spain set his bloody Armada out to get me and overthrow our queen." He growled.

"Didn't you win that? Why are you mad?"

"Romano. Romano..." He said exhausted. "Win or lose, I lost as many people as Spain did that year. Maybe not as much, but the pain lingers. During my golden age as well, I might add. Which is why... I did the unspeakable to Spain. I captured his ass and his crew and locked them in a dungeon for a while you might remember that."

I stared at him. For a long time without speaking, my eyes widened in horror. Nostalgia hit me like a wave back to my cloudy younger memories when Spain left for months captured, and came back... broken, like an empty shell of what used to be a man. It shattered my heart even now, and I refused to believe that the loving, caring Spaniard I once knew didn't love nor care no more. I didn't wanna believe his spirit was gone. And never would I have thought England to be the fucking reason my childhood sucked. Well it sucked for more than that reason, but that memory was traumatic for me as well. I anxiously awaited his new few words in dying anticipation.

England kept silent.

"W-what did you do?" I asked.

"I..." England obviously, didn't look like he wanted to fucking tell me the truth. It seemed to painful that he shut his eyes and winced.

"You what?" _Come on! I felt sickened suddenly, but had to know. Afraid to know._

"I was at my limit with all his remarks, he- he kept hollering insults at my queen, and laughed at how much damage his Armada had done to me. And I tortured him for quite some time. I did my best to make him regret setting foot on English territory. Back then we all suffered by each other's hand."

"H-how?"

...

_**~.Oo0oO**__**.~ **_

"Don't get me started over the Spanish Inquisition. And lastly I should mention Netherlands."

"What now? That asshole!" I said in disbelief in a shaky breath. Trying to let all that had been told sink its meaning in. Goddammit, if I wanted to know all this, and it all came out of Spain's mouth. I'd think I'd...

"Yes. He was Spain's henchman before you. Though now I think he should explain the whole dilemma than me..."

"No. You got this fucking far, now finish." I demanded.

"Very well. Netherlands, was one of Spain's older henchman. Do you remember as a teenager?"

"All he did was work. And when I asked him to play with me, he said no." I immediately remembered.

"Yes, well there came a time when his people were changing their beliefs in tradition and Spain didn't like that at all. Netherlands became rebellious under my influence."

He didn't even have to finish that part of the fucking story. I knew the truth now, so I would guess war would be the answer. But Britain spoke through the actions of him. So, I decided to ask more about Spain than what he did. Part of me really hopes this guy was just delusional or drunk for half of his life. I felt the nerve to defend him.

"I don't remember him like that."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't remember Spain being that hostile... all I remember when I was young was that we'd pick tomatoes out from the garden and when he'd get a message that he had to go to war, I- I didn't want him to. I hated whenever he had to go."

"Perhaps he was under the influence of his boss. But I assure he wasn't as kind as he was now. That wanker looks like a fool now, compared to back then."

Fuck. Why do I feel like crying? I expected this. I did, right? Hold it in. I just have to hold it in.

Deep down I know its all true, but I keep trying to convince myself that the Brit is lying.

"Why did you make America leave?" I asked hoarsely. Another subject, I need to change the fucking subject. Why didn't Spain just fucking _tell me?!_ Britain sighed deeply.

"Because the twit would ask more questions about me and why I did certain and why I didn't. And... I can't have Alfred hate me. I-I'd rather die, than have him despise me.." He confessed without notice. That's why Spain didn't tell him.

"Give me a minute to think things over." I asked, and left with an astounding dramatic silence for several minutes.

I had to remind myself that he's changed. What if... I become more aware of him in a questionable light. _Then what?_ Ugh, I should just ask him directly. Honesty's the best policy.

"Romano, your almost home. Is there anything else you want to ask before I leave? I'd prefer it if you'd not bother me later about this in front of Alfred."

"No, that's all. Grazie." I said in what must've sounded monotone.

"Don't tell Alfred about any of this. I hope your a man by your word."

"I wont, dammit! Now, go pick up your boyfriend who you ditched at a fucking hotel_!_" I bit my lip, where is all this anger coming from? We finally arrived to my destination, and I got out of the car with a resounding slam of the door. Before I could be blessed with the absence of Britain's presence,

"You wanker! Don't get so angry, it wouldn't be so wise to take your temper out on my car!"

"Shut up and leave, dammit!" I said, reverted to a more vulgar speech.

At least, he finally left me alone. Stuck in a car with that Brit was unnerving. Must be worse, stuck in a kitchen with him. I proceeded to the door of my mansion where Feliciano would _-undoubtedly_- greet me. Before I could ring the doorbell, the door swang open and revealed a tall, tan, hot mess who I would never thought look so fucking mad. Just wait till I'm bombarded with a million questions.

* * *

**_((A/N~ Only one more flashback chapter to go and that's the break-up one. *sobs* I hope you guys learnt some history. I'm no history expert at all, this is all I learned from my teacher that I remember. Constructional Criticism & Suggestions is always welcomed. ~Ana))_**


	8. Chapter VIII

_**Chapter VIII~ The End of All Flashbacks**_

_**Disclaimer~ I do not own Hetalia.**_

_**((A/N~ Holy Crapola, I'm finally done with the stupid flashbacks, getting on my nerves and all~! I've been waiting to start this chapter since Chapter Uno~! I love you guys.))**_

* * *

There he was. There was the love of my life and also the bane of my existence. _H-how is he even here?_ Fucking hell, do not tell me Feli invited him here! That idiot! I'm not ready, not ready, NOT FUCKING READY!

...

_And yet, there he was. With his disheveled brown locks on hair curling up and him emerald eyes piercing through me_. I gulped. _How am I supposed to talk to someone who looks like a god? God of Romance and Hotness. Beauty a-and **Compassion.**_ After hearing Britain talk shit about Antonio for two hours, you'd think the first impression I got as soon as he opened the door was that Spain was some sort of menace. But no,... I didn't see him like that. I _couldn'_t see him like that. That would be impossible for me. _It's too bad that right now he was not looking as great as he could've been since his eyebrows scrunched down and he glared so with apprehension. _I froze. He was the first to break this cold silence.

...

"Lovino, where were you? Where did you go after the meeting?" He asked, somewhat sounding worried and anxious for an answer. Lying would not be wise right now.

"Didn't you hear America? He was too fucking loud for you not to hear!" I tried to keep my cool, if I don't think about it. If I get irrationally angry, at least I won't bawl in front of him.

"Then, why were you in the car with him! And not America?!" He practically screamed at me.

He saw me.

_**Fuck**_. Don't think about it, Romano!

I kept my head down low, I couldn't dare to look up.

"Why are you here?!" I retorted.

"Romano, I asked you first!"

"I wanted to talk to England. That's all." I answered honestly.

"_About..._?" He said getting more impatient by the second.

"It's none of your fucking business!" I said. Antonio looked temporarily shocked, that I raised my voice at him. I-I didn't mean to, it just came out, Oops... maybe I should've switched that line with the line I was gonna tell America when he called.

"But Roma~" He purred seductively. If he thinks he's going to fucking persuade me to tell him the truth, then so help me, only one of us is going to be alive tomorrow morning and it won't be him! Thank god, that America's call was right now.

_'Que tengo que hacer?_

_pa que vuelvas conmigo_

_vamos a dejar el pasado atrs_

_para mi la vida no tiene sentido si te vas!_

_Que tengo que hacer?'_

Mental face palmed myself, why did I choose a Spanish song?! I quickly answered the call, before Spain could say something about that fucking embarrassing ringtone.

"Ciao bastard." I growled. The last person I want to talk to now is America, in fact I was planning on ignoring all his calls, but now it seemed convenient to answer.

"Yo! Romano, what did England tell you?! Dude, give me all of the details now!"

"Look America, honestly he didn't tell me- _muuuch! Eep!_" I squealed on that last word. Why?_ Because Spain fucking pants me!_ So, here am I standing in tomato printed boxers, calling America and I just KNOW Antonio is either fucking pouting or staring down at my ass. I hissed in response refusing to face the perpetrator who wanted my fucking attention. He can mourn in silence for all I care!

"Romano, dude are you coming down with something? Wanna come over my house? I have the cure for whatever cough you have! But you'll have to tell me what Arty said. Okay?"

"No! I'm not fucking sick! And I don't want to go over your fucking house! I just came home to mine!" Then, Spain clicked his tongue and I am suddenly really aware of his presence. "On second thought, I'll be right there! Just wait for me-" Uh, where is my damn cellphone?!

"No. Romano's busy, he can't go over your house. Not until he answers my questions. Adios." Spain hung up. _The fuck?!_

"You can't tell me what to do you fucking asshole! A-and you can't fucking pants me while I'm on the phone! It's my house! "

"Whether or not it's your house, you know I'll always be your boss, Roma~" Oh now, _that_ struck a cord.

"N-no, your not, bastard! And you know what! You were a pretty lousy boss at that!"

Spain sounded like he was trying really hard, not to show just how pissed off he was. Impatient bastard..

"Ah, seems like I have to teach a lesson mi amor, won't I?"

_Huh? _

He then, get this, he threw me over his shoulder with my pants still surrounding my ankles and brought me onto the living room couch.

"W-what the hell are you doing?! At least let me pull up my pants!" I screeched, then I was put right upside... on his fucking lap. Oh and he patted my back lightly, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Now you can tell all about what you did right after you left the conference-" Antonio said as he placed a chaste kiss on my shoulder, his arms entertwining around my waist and arms.

"America and I went to the fucking amusement park. The end." I said in dead monotone.

"Mhm. Ah, anything else?"

"No." I said I resumed to stand the fuck up, out of his embrace. Or at least attempted. I don't know when or how but I ended up right under him. Well I fucking tried to alright! It's not my fault he's a bazillion times stronger than me!

"Romano I know you are not telling the truth." He said as his green eyes suddenly darkened. That upset me a lot, since it was my favorite part about him. I could stare at him for hours but now, I cringed and gulped.

The truth? He wants the fucking truth?! The truth is he won't tell me the truth so I had to find out for myself and confide in England. And that was exactly what I told him before I could stop myself.

As a response to that, he kissed me deeply and my heart sped up. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no. This is bad. I tried to push him off and when I did. He. Pulled. My. Curl. WHICH IS A FUCKING BIG NO-NO! The effects did wonders and never failed to arouse me to almost forgetfulness. Eh... I guess its not a good time to mention my boxers were slipping off.

"I don't want you to speak to him anymore. _Comprende_?"

Huh?

Now that I knew everything, I accepted it. I was probably better off not knowing but now...? Even Netherlands

"Why? So, I don't learn more about your shitty past? Or all the other things you did to your colonies aside from me and Femke?"

Romano. Stop talking. Now. I could've sworn his eyes widened in shock and fear. Spain looked flabbergasted for a moment. This is the first time I've ever seen Spain give me an expression like that.

"Romano, really. I didn't think you of all people needed to learn that." He spoke in truth. _How... how could he say that? _"Roma..."

"No! Don't "Roma~" me! Not when you treated all your other colonies like crap, no wonder they dumped your ass! Your a fucking jerk! If you think you can just pull my fucking curl and make me forget, you thought wrong!"

_Heat of the moment, please just shut the fuck up Romano! _I repeatedly told myself.

No. Everyone fucking knew this shit minus me! I'm fucking tired of his bullshit! It didn't even matter that all this was in the past. No, no it didn't matter at all. Because the past is what made the person he is today. The person I love. T-then why does it hurt so... much.

Antonio collectively closed his eyes for a moment in anguish as if he were contemplating something.

"It's... just not worth it anymore Romano." He said slowly.

"What are you going on about now, bastard?" I said, slowly giving him a glare through my accusatory slits. Slowly contemplating on the meaning when it struck me like lightening even before he could explain.

"Romano, I-I don't see what's the point in pursuing a relationship, when you ignore me."

"Say what?"

"This is what I mean Romano. I try to talk to you, you curse me out. I try to whisper loving words in your ear, you ignore me. I try to cuddle with you an hold your hand, you push me away. I try to make love to you, you-"

"STOP! I FUCKING GET IT, OKAY? NO NEED TO SAY MORE!" I puffed out, already blushing.

"Roma... how am I supposed to prove to you, you can trust me when I ask what you were thinking when you were in Britain's car!"

"Trust you? YOU?! You won't fucking tell me anything! Seems like you don't trust me."

"That doesn't mean you can go behind my back and just ask him Roma~! "

"Yes it does! It's not like I like that old bastard!"

"That doesn't matter! Mierda! Roma h-he could've hurt you o-or..." Spain stuttered wondering what would happen if Romano just disappeared. He bit his lip but not before...

"Hurt me? Spain this isn't the fucking Medieval Ages! The only one hurting me is you! S-stop gripping me so tight! O-ow!" Antonio paused for a moment, realizing he was really gripped my arm, so tightly it was ceasing my blood circulation. Then quickly changed the pressure to an apologetic caress.

"Ah, lo siento Lovi! I-I-I'm so sorry!"

"I hate you!" I sobbed.

"No, Romano, no. Please forgive me! W-why don't we just spend the day together-"

"No! You're a fucking asshole, you jerk! Go to hell where you belong, you damned bastard! I know Britain was a sick bastard back then, but don't act like you were innocent when you were also at fault!" I bursted out, remembering every fucking detail the damn Brit eased.

Antonio, grief-stricken, cupped my head with his ever so gentle hands, looking straight into my eyes.

I winced.

And I'm pretty sure that was when Antonio lost hope.

"Romano, you never said it out loud a-and I assumed that you do but... do you-, do you love me?"

I bit my lip, wondering if I said the obvious answer then I'd end up like Netherlands. Or what if he only liked me because I looked like my brother and he was just putting up with me. O-or what if he was sick of me and just asking to know how he could break the news. The old fear of abandonment arose. It was then my defense mechanism kicked in.

"W-well... I-I..." I stuttered. I hope what I'm about to say is not what I think I'm about to say! "No." I said resolutely.

... I hesitated for a minute. Of course, I did! B-but I've never felt th-this hesitant and this scared and nervous since...

"Then, it's... just not worth it anymore, Romano." His voice echoing soundly through my ears, snapping me back to reality. I could've sworn his green eyes looked wetter than before.

...

* * *

_**.~Oo0oO~. *Flashback from Chapter IV before the Flashbacks* .~Oo0oO~.**_

_I should've know better than to trust him. God, I'm such an idiot... Dammit. I walked over to the vacant balcony and shut the doors closed to numb the noise. It was quiet and you could hear the faint sound of laughter and music._

_But now was not the time, I need to think. I bit my lip in anxiety. I only ever did that habit out of anxiety. This was overwhelming, I shouldn't be here. I don't even like people in general. Why did I come? The balcony hung plants from above and I closed the drapes near the door to isolate myself. Why? Dammit, why!? I need to remember what happen on that day. Maybe then, I'd have the passion to go through against the rail I pinched the bridge of my nose in irritation and furrowed my eyebrows as I thought back to that traitorous day._

* * *

_**.~Oo0oO.~ *Present Day* .~Oo0oO.~**_

"Romano. What are you doing out here? You'll get sick." Antonio told me formally. Waking me up from my frighteningly dull flashback, I have to stop daydreaming and face reality. No matter how painful and bitch reality is. I turned to find the motherfucker right there, invading my personal space. There was a reason I left to reside here. To avoid him for one. And two it seems the isolation only heightened my fucking migraine._ When did it get so cold here? I'm frozen. _"A-are you crying?"

Was I? I rubbed my moist eyes. When did that happen? Okay, no more daydreaming. The past is in the past.

"Fuck no. Do yourself a favor and please don't act like you actually give a damn, bastard." I glared, as I heard a bell alarm. Great, is the conference finally starting? I gulped as I brushed past Spain's shoulder and proceeded to distance myself from him as far as possible. He didn't follow me this time.

He didn't.

...

Maybe I can ask Hungary where she keeps her fucking aspirins. She has to have some, I mean she lived with _Austria_, that underwear-sewing bastard. Ew... I approached the large crowd forming in front of a stage Hungary stood on. Dammit! And I can't even see that well because of Netherland's fucking hair! World Meetings are the absolute worst. I can't believe I wore a tuxedo for this. She tapped the mic a few times to test the sound.

"Welcome one and all. Thank you for attending this very important conference I called upon. I am well aware that all the nations have arrived hm?"

Prussia was the first to yell in outrage.

"Hey you! Hungary! Why is ze awesome me and ze rest of my sidekicks here anyway? Kinda busy because West wants to go shopping for girly stuff after zis meeting! Hurry up, will ya!"

Hungary replied with a scowl.

"As I was saying, you are probably wondering why we are all here today since the next real conference is next year." Japan raised his hand. "Yes?" She acknowledged. "You make it sound rike this isn't a conference, Hungary-san?" Japan asked politely.

"Oh! That's because it isn't a real conference! Very perceptive!" She chimed.

FUCK. I KNEW IT! WHERE. IS. THE. EXIT.? I surveyed the entire room for an exit, YES FOUND ONE! I can leave as long as this isn't a legitimate conference. I headed for the exit immediately until Hungary noticed. Bitch sees everything.

"Romano where are heading, sweetheart?" She asked, loud and clear on the mic. Great, how many eyes are laid on me now? Don't be nervous Roma.

"Home." I growled.

"Oh well, you _can't._"

...

"What the fuck do you mean I _'can't'_?!" I yelled as I twisted the doorknob... that wouldn't budge. I turned it again using all of my manly strength, same results.

Am I seriously this weak? I need to go to a gym!

"All the windows and doors are locked." She finally answered. "And none of you are getting out until I say so. I have a game for all of you to play." _A game? Then, why do I feel like Im already losing... painfully._

And that, my _lovelies_, is what caused the pandemonium that is Hungary's very own Hetalia Dating Game. Which will be explained in the next chapter because my damn writer has a fucking word limit for each chapter!

"Ve~ This reminds of the time when we all trapped in that abandoned, scary, haunted mansion..." Feliciano mentioned.

"Italy, vat was a video game you played last week." The Potato Bastard sighed.

* * *

**__****_((A/N~ _**Romano/Lovino's Ringtone~ "Que Tengo Que Hacer" (What do I have to do?) Sung by: Daddy Yankee  
English Translation: 

_'What Do I have to do_  
_For you to come back to me_  
_Let's leave the past behind_  
_My life has no meaning if you leave_

_What do I have to do...'_

I was going to put a song up by Prince Royce or Romeo Santos or an Italian song but I couldn't choose and this seemed to fit best for the Spamano relationship in this case. If you want a beautiful Italian song, google up "Sonohra~ L'Amore."

**_Hate me now? Love me now? I'm loving the next chapter of this. Annnnd... what? Antonio needed to pants Lovino at some point because I said so. *Tomato boxers are so in right now* Why not now? XD I'm gonna be honest. This whole fanfiction is based on the dream I had the night before I published this. So, please bear with me for now. Ugh, but I hate the beginning of this chapter. Please review~! Constructional Critcism and Suggestions are always welcomed. Sorry for such a long A/N~! ~Ana Out!))_**


	9. Chapter IX

**Chapter IX~ Monday's Are Terrible**

_**Disclaimer~ I do not own Hetalia.**_

* * *

Now, normally what any sane person or insane person would do was rip Hungary to shreds. I propose we revert back to the olden days and have her hanged. Unfortunately, we don't have a noose. Well, at least a good amount of idiots are smart enough to fight back and protest. And who better to start the revolt none other than the Macho Potato, Eyebrows, and heh, naturally myself.

Well... actually, the Macho Potato and Eyebrows were the only ones who tried to break down the fucking door. Which, incidentally, was our only exit for now since the windows were so up high up. So, while the potato bastard tried to take down the door- oh fuck, he's gone shirtless. Shield thy eyes! Feli started shrieking (not sure because he was scared or aroused.) And I just sassed Hungary- I MEAN TOLD HER OFF. Because really who would have the guts to actually hit a girl, not even Prussia would. And I was raised to praise woman, not to pick fights with manipulative bitches. The rest of the fucking world were either being barbaric and trying to break a window or had tiny beads of sweat crawling down their forehead, crying, whining and worried.

... I think Lithuania just passed out.

"If this is just some sick foreplay game to satisfy your yaoi fucking fetish, I'm going to order a restraining order against you." I threatened, with a scowl. Hungary pursed her lips and placed an alarming finger on mine.

"Now, now you should be the most grateful one here. This does benefit you."

"Really how?" I asked with a tint of sarcasm, scoffing.

"Don't you want to spend more time with Tonio-?" The answer... A REDEFINING NO THANK YOU PLEASE. But I was still nervous about answering that particular question.

"Since when did you two get on first-name basis?" I, instead, asked. But I must've looked like a kicked puppy because that's when she cooed.

"Romano, don't be hurt. I've designed this entire game to revive and help fix your relationship with him. Don't you trust me?"

"Hell no! And what if my relationship doesn't need fixing? Ever thought of that?!"

"Tell you what Romano, since you seem so adamant about it or maybe even more uncooperative and stubborn than usual, if you can prove to me you have absolutely no feelings for Tonio then I'll let it go."

_I-is that hope I see?_

"But for now, considering that tint of red on your cheeks, I'm going to assume you are just dying for affection." She added in.

All that hope down the drain, I tell you. Down the fucking drain.

**_Crack!_**

Now, your probably thinking, _"Oh wow! Someone finally broke down Hungary's indestructible bullet-proof door! Yay!"_

Hahahaha... **no.**

That's the sound of England breaking his arm.

"Arty! I'll save youuu!" And that, _ladies and gentleman_, is the sound of his _"hero"_ coming to his rescue.

"Goddammit! Hungary, your gonna get us all fucking killed!"

"No, honey. I'm just waiting for the crowd to settle down so I can explain this game. But you know what, since your being so mature and not trying to tear down my house..." I could hear the annoyance level rising in her tone. "You get a sneak peek at the game." She finished handing me a flyer and storming off to get Prussia down swinging from the goddamn chandelier. How the fuck did he get up there?!

_O-oh yeah, the brochure._

Hungary thought of everything. Even the schedule throughout the entire week. Hm... maybe I should read this.

_**The Dating Game~**_

_**There are approximately several trials in Hungary's Dating Game. Each trial will take place everyday until Saturday. Saturday you may take a day off, but must return midnight or else face the consequences not mentioned in the flyer. Each individual must finish each and every trial and if any resists, Hungary has your bosses permission to punish you severely.**_

_Say what?_

**_On the other hand, if you refuse to participate, then it is considered not finishing your job as your country's personification._**

Annnd that's when I stopped reading this bullshit. What the fuck?! We all know our bosses only agreed to this because we are a pain in the ass to complain about it. Sneaky bastards that only want us to get off their back.

_I don't think I'll survive ._

**_Crack!_**

Nope, I definitely won't survive til Saturday.

Today is Sunday.

_**~.Oo0oO.~**_

_(( A/N~ In case you can't tell, Bold means the question asked. Underlined is Romano's answer and Italics is his thinking. ))_

**Compatibility Questionnaire Form A**

**Human Name:** Lovino Romano Vargas

**Age:** 22

**Country you represent:** Southern Italy

Thank you. And welcome to the Compatibility Questionnaire. Please answer all of your questions truthfully to find out who you are most compatible with.

**What is your favorite food?** Tomatoes.

_Wait, what if Spain chose tomatoes? OH FUCK._ *erases "tomatoes" and writes:* Pasta. _It's Italian, therefore an acceptable answer._

It's a good thing the only other person who'd write pasta is my brother and there's no way Hungary would ever ship us together. Unless... she likes incestual yaoi relationships...

I bet she does.

Ew. *shivers* Okay. Next question.

**What do you look for in a relationship?**

_This is going to be a long exam, isn't it? Maybe I should write "nice" or "can cook" or- why the fuck am I naming Spain's traits?! The last thing I want to do is have him as my fucking partner and shit! That means I'll have to actual spend time with him and talk to the tomato bastard. Fine._ *sighs and scribbles terrible traits*

_Let's see..._ Mean, tough, can't cook to save his/her own life, hates tomatoes, and has no friends. _Hm... yeah that pretty much sums up the Anti-Spain. Heh, also describes no one I can think of at the moment. Then, I won't paired with anyone. Yes, I'm such a fucking genius, aren't I? Next question..._

**Any sexual preferences?**

_Nnng... preferably male, you know that perfectly well. Not that I don't love woman, because I do. Just... not in that way. Besides everyone already knows I'm not straight thanks to Belgium and her stupid brother. So, it would look suspicious. So..._

Male.

**Sex? (Must be detailed.)**

_Fuck you, Elizaveta! Don't tell me what to do bitch!_ *rashly scribbles*

Bondage. Lots of it. And I wanna be the one topping!

_Hnnn... I don't know what sick sadistic fucker likes to be tied up, but I highly doubt Spain would._

_..._

_But... I-I'd like to try it someday._

_I mean... it's not like I never fantasized about it before. Never fantasized about myself being tied up on the bed, struggling while An- an individual that shall not be named!- kisses down my neck a-and down my chest and..._ *blushes a flustered red* _I-It's completely normal to wonder about! Right?_

_Right!?_

_Ugh... wait... why am I bottoming in my daydream? No! Shoo! Go away bottom-dwelling dreams! No one wants you! Okay. Next Question._

**Name the perfect date.**

_Hnnn... Spain would candle lit dinners and shit. Which means I should do..._ *writes it down*

Working to save my fucking country from bankruptcy. _Lazy Spaniard would never write that. Hah! Next Question._

**Do you have a crush?**

No.

**If so, what's their name and country?**

No.

**Name one person you'd sleep with in this room.**

_Is Hungary serious? Or mentally disturbed? You know what! I'm writing the most detestable person in the room who I doubt even has a sex life. They won't care._

Austria.

_Hungary's gonna get so pissed at me. Oh dammit, this is hilarious._ *laughs a little* _There's no way she'd pair me up with her husband. Wow. I'm evil! I should receive and award for this or something._

**Can you have children?**

No, but Id love to try ;).

**Describe your Wedding Day.**

_I'm keeping that one blank. Now wait...I have an answer!_

Not in Spain.

_Perfect! Now, I'm positive I won't get Spain as my partner. Alright, Next Question..._

**_~.Oo0oO.~_**

"Hungary." She turned to face me as I waved the questionnaire in her face. "What the fuck is this shit?" She grabbed it hastily, and glanced at it.

"Oh, so you finally stopped throwing a tantrum and finished your questionnaire. Oh good, now here's your room key." She handed me my key with a tag numbered 21. "That is the room where you'll be staying in for now."

"Don't tell I have to fucking share the room, because if I do-"

"Don't you worry Romano. I made sure you'd share a room with your brother. Now now, go on. It's already 2 A.M. Everyone except you is sound asleep. Besides you'll have to be wide awake for tomorrow."

"Why? What's tomorr-ugh!" That was when I was hoisted up from my arms and shoulders by two buff Hungarian men in suits. Most likely her bodyguards. "Hey! Let me go dammit!" My feet was no longer planted firmly on the ground.

"You have a good night's rest, sweetheart." She fucking winked at me, before leaving.

"No! Let me go, you bastards! I can walk! Argh!" I growled and struggled to no avail. They threw me in an elevator and clicked button number two to my floor and left. The elevator doors closed shut before I could grab them my their collars and choke the two to death. I hate elevators. AND I FUCKING HATE ELEVATOR MUSIC!? And to make things worse, it just so happens that France was also on my elevator. Which almost instantaneously reminded me of my blackout in the dark with the creep.

"AGH! IT'S **YOU.**" I paled immediately and distance myself as far away as I could from the sex-driven creep. In retrospect, it might not be the smartest idea to back myself up against a fucking wall in position where I could easily be- ...On second thought, don't remind me. I don't want that mental image in my head. France, on the other hand, looked ecstatic to see me.

"Romano! I've been meaning to speak to you all day. A little birdie told me you were looking for moi." He winked. When is anyone going to realize I don't want to be winked at!? And if that _"little birdie"_ turned out to be Prussia and his fucking yellow bird of his, I'm going to make sure that moron had wished he wasn't a country anymore.

"Yeah-h me too..." I growled as pulled up sleeves and balled my fists, taking a step towards him murderously. I glared up, trying so hard not to commit a crime here and now. Why was the elevator taking so long?! It's the second floor we're going to! "Well I haven't forgotten the rumor you fucking made up."

"Rumor? Romano, you must be in denial now-"

"Fuck you! Don't act like you didn't tell everyone at the fucking party that you banged me!"I screeched at my limit, letting angry puffs of air surge in and out of my mouth. France pondered about this for an irritating amount of time before he spoke once more.

"Hm... is that why Antoine's been so cold toward moi? Seems so... then my questions been answered. May I ask who told you this?"

"Not until you fucking tell me what you did when I went unconscious!" I yelled.

"Stop yelling Romano. No one else is here. And as much as I'd love to tap that delicious Italian ass~, I did nothing of the sort."

"THAT'S A LIE, YOU JACKASS!"

He chuckled sadly. "No, no. I would never ever wound Antonio's already broken heart. He's been through enough, don't you think?" I calmed down, more pissed off at that last comment he made. Seemed like he was implying that I did something wrong.

"Ugh, would everyone please just stop saying that Antonio has a broken heart! If I recall correctly, and as one of the last sane countries, he broke up with **me!**" I complained, sighing. I turned away, no longer facing him. The bastard didn't deserve my time of day, so I just muttered angry curses in Italian under my breath. I clenched my fists, trying hard not to burst out emotionally.

"Ah Romano~ Just because someone broke up with you, doesn't mean he doesn't want lovely you~" He said, seemingly sympathetically. I cringed at his advice, and refused to take. Why? Because whether or not you say no, he'll still be convinced you are secretly attracted to him. That invalidates his position to give me relationship advice. Especially when I don't fucking need it!

"See! See what I mean!? And you call me the delusional one?" I argued, pointing an alarming finger to myself. "Now, I want to know exactly what happened after I passed out! From the millisecond I blacked to the millisecond I woke up in bed with Spain! And don't lie." I growled.

"And that's all I did, Mon Amie~ I just carried you to Antoine's bed, since it's been quite a while since you two slept so peacefully-"

"SHUT UP! GAHH! I don't wanna hear any more!" I really didn't. I could tell he was telling the truth. I covered my ears in annoyance, trying to block out the Frenchman's words. The elevator doors were finally tortuously opening slowly and I felt a pinch of hope for myself. I could leave without having to speak another word to that asshole!

That is...

Before Fuckface decided to push me back to the ground of the elevator, against the wall and clicked on the buttons to the top floor. The doors... _they were closing..._ before my eyes. Argh, that bastard's probably trying to buy more time with me. Oh fuck, why didn't I see this coming?! I started to stand up to face him and yell in rapid Italian.

I shouldn't have done that.

I_ really_ shouldn't have done that.

Because before I knew it, I was backed up against a wall with two of the Frenchman's hands at my side, and my worst nightmares were confirmed.

"Ever heard of personal space bastard! M-move!" Goddammit, my speech is stuttering. I sound like a fucking kid scared of the boogeyman. Or worse..., a molesting Frenchman. If you looked into his eyes, he looked dead serious and frowned for once.

"Romano. I'm just going to let you in on a little secret,..." he whispered in my ear. I shoved my fists against his chest in vain. "Antoine has been devastated for the last century. He hasn't been outside his house as often as he used. He almost always denies having drinks with us, his buddies. And he has been depressed so much as to the point where he never leaves the comfort of his room unless it was absolutely mandatory." Before I could accuse him of lying, "For example: For a World Conference or a chance to see you."

My eyes widened at the confession. Should I easily dismiss it as a lie? France has no reason to lie anyways. Spain looked fine before, or was I just seeing things. There's no way, a cheerful Spaniard such as himself would... just die on the inside. I can't imagine Spain depressed, and not for century. The only time I had ever seen him momentarily upset is when we ran out of tomatoes and it only lasted for two hours. _The worse part..._ France continued.

"As you know depression often affects his economy as well and has driven him on the verge of hopelessness. And don't try to argue that it didn't have anything to do with your breakup. So, unless you stop acting like a child and start acting like an adult, it's only going to kill Antoine. And I can't stand to watch and see that happen. Especially since I can't do anymore that I tried to do already. Just remember that. Keep that in mind, Romano."

I can't say I ignored it and didn't hear because I did. And bit my lip hard enough for it to hurt. That couldn't possibly be... true. Can it? Maybe I should become more aware of Spain's attitude and surroundings to confirm it. There's no way I can't ignore it. No. No._** NO.**_

"Don't blame me! It's his fault! It's always been his fault! I hate him!" Why did those words sting now?

"Ah Romano... my little melodramatic love bird," Once again, I twitched. "There's is a thin line between hate and love. For all you know, you could still have passion for him. And I am a genius about L'amore~, my capital, Paris, is not known as the city of love for naught."

"Heh, genius eh? You know they say the same exact thing about genius and madness?" I said, broodingly. He blatantly ignored me.

"Oh Romano, once you realize how much Spain loves you, I'm sure you'll fine happiness as well. We are all hoping for that."

In the end, I pushed him back away and clicked the elevator button to my floor once more, infuriated. "All? Shut the fuck up! I didn't ask you! Besides shouldn't you be -OhIDontKnow- drinking with Prussia by now!"

"Ah yes, I would love to have another night of mindless drinking and fun. But..." He sighed. "Alas it is not as fun without mon amie anymore, and my darling Matthew is always at unease whenever we do in his presence. Honestly, sharing a room with all of them: America, Austria, and Iggy is not going to be easy." He chuckled sadly. My first thought was how thankful I was not to share a room with the most unpleasant people in the world. But then I realized France was going to share a room of five fucking people.

_"Say what?"_ I barked in monotone. "Five people sharing a room? I thought it was only going to be me and my brother?!"

"Do you know how many countries came to this conference, Romano? More than you can count. Of course, we have to share, besides-~"

"Oi! Do you think I want to share a room!?" I yelled.

Oh thank god, the elevator door's are opening now! About time! Grazie a dio~!

_Finally! _Freedom!

I raced out of the elevator room as fast as I could, which is like lightening speed to the Room 21, where I was destined to share with my brother, Italia and...

* * *

_**((A/N~ Now, I might have made it obvious but who do you think Romano will be paired with in the Compatibility Questionnaire and who is he sharing a room with? You might be surprised when I say it's two different people. Ciao~! ~Ana))**_


End file.
